How the World Keeps on Turning
by Death Makes An Artist
Summary: There's a fine line between being dead and being, well, dead. I was the same person I had been before I died, only now I was different... Sequel to Confessions of a Catholic Prostitute
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I don't know what's going on. I'm going to make an attempt to repost the story at a different URL and see if that circumvents the problem. If it doesn't, we'll find out very quickly, but I don't know what might be wrong with the second chapter. I'm uploading the same way I did for all 88 chapters so far. Ah well. Chapter one is the same. Let's see if we can upload chapter two. **

_There's a fine line between being dead and being, well, _dead. _It might never have occurred to me just how much death can ruin a person's life if I hadn't survived my own death, reincarnated with a new name and a new home and a new background, but the same face, the same sensation on sun on my skin, and the same longings and desires I had experienced since I was a child. I was the same person I had been before I died, only now I was different. _

I threw down my phone in frustration. Okay, okay, maybe a little bit of fear. No, mostly fear. Why wouldn't she answer my call? Landing hard on my couch, I drew my knees to my chest, curled my fingers through my hair, and made a sound that I can only describe as need. I needed more than I ever had in my life, though, admittedly, I've always been a needy person underneath the guise of the Ice Princess. I had to protect my breaking heart somehow. Freezing up just seemed to do it for me. I didn't attach too deeply to anyone, or at least, that was how I perceived myself. No one made it in through my icy exterior. No one got to see me break. Until the one night in Olivia's apartment, anyway. Olivia who was the first person to see me cry since middle school.

It had been a week. I hadn't left more than two messages on her phone, and I stopped calling after that first day. I had just been clinging to my phone like it was my safety net. No one would tell me anything. I had reached Monica to have her tell me that Casey and Temperance were both okay and to strongly advise me not to go back to New York. Actually, I think her exact words were: "Alex, you color outside the lines a little too freely. It's one thing to visit in a safe, secure environment. It's another thing to go gallivanting off for three months. And, what's this about your father's company in Ireland? You said you were going to Dublin. That's a long way from your father's fisheries. I can't protect you if you lie to me."

"What went wrong?" I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I hoped to anything she had gotten cold feet. Maybe after three months, she didn't think she could put up with me. I didn't blame her. I wasn't exactly easy to put up with. I tried not to plague myself with wondering where she drew the line, but it was only natural. My only news from New York was that the love of my life and child I considered nothing less than my daughter were all right. That, and that Casey had asked that I stop calling.

I had taken to sleeping on the couch because the bed was too big. It was a bed that would never be shared and bore only my scent as opposed to the warm, rich scents I had become accustomed to living with Casey. The couch was uncomfortable and I wound up getting less and less sleep as the week wore on, but at least I could see the front door. If anyone came in, I would know. It just seemed so paranoid.

With no other outlet, I did my usual. I threw myself into my work, picking up extra hours as the boss asked about them, withdrawing almost completely from my world. It was a good month long process, but I began to embrace Emily Schimke of Tulsa. If Casey didn't want me in New York, then I had no decent reason to remain Alexandra Cabot.

_In the first six months, I grew timid. Emily of Tulsa seemed timid to me. She had an average background with average parents – Margaret and Edward Schimke – from an average neighborhood. Her life was average. She wasn't an outgoing person. Because, honestly, if it had been me, I would have been involved in the debate team, the newspaper club, the polisci club, and just about every other club I could possibly manage to attend. I would have played rugby and ran for the track team. I would have jumped into internships at sixteen. Emily Schimke did none of that, and so, I had my excuse to crawl into my rabbit hole, to let myself change. _

_And, change I did._

DEA Special Agent Jack Hammond came by to visit every once in a while, but the Marshals assigned to my case had learned to steer clear of my Wisconsin home if they valued their lives. Those first six months, I grieved. I felt like I had died all over again. I felt like I was leaving not only Casey and Temperance but Elliot and Olivia as well, again, even though they never knew I had been back. I had been so close to touching my old life, so very close, but it was many miles away. I had sent Casey a card apologizing for whatever it was I had done, telling her I would make it up to her if she would only tell me.

And, when it had come back to me unopened with her handwriting on the front _Return to Sender_, I had let my heart break. I had let it break and shatter, the pieces scattered around the floor of my one story house until it took the office Halloween party to get me to start picking up again. I was a mess. I was exactly the kind of vulnerable predators liked, though it wasn't a predator who found me. It was Adam. Other than the men I had dated up through college, I had no interest in men. I didn't have interest in them, either, but I had done it for the sake of appearance.

I was leaning numbly against the wall of the hall the company had rented for the Halloween party, sipping on Sprite. I had given up alcohol with Casey, and I wasn't over her enough to start drinking again. It was the not over her look that must have drawn Adam's attention to me, though. I knew him well enough. He was a claims adjuster one floor below the floor I worked on. We had chatted a couple of times in the lunch room, though that had been before New York broke my heart. I had been studiously avoiding the lunch room ever since.

"You don't look like you're having too much fun," he said as he leaned against the wall beside me, holding out what smelled like whiskey. I shook my head, declining the drink and affirming his suspicions. "Rumor has it you and the woman you were dating in New York fell through."

"Yea," I said. "I don't know why, either. I think that's what hurts the most."

"I'm sorry, Emily. That's really not fair. You deserve better."

I shrugged. "Unless I know her motives, I can't say what I deserved. For all I know, I could have done something pretty heinous."

"I suppose. It's still unfair. Even criminals are told what they did wrong." I laughed. "You two had a kid, right?"

"Yea, Temperance. She's the love of my life. Or, she was. I guess she won't know who I am." I had thought about the joint custody agreement I had with Casey. Technically, I could fight her to see my daughter, but if Casey thought that cutting off all contact with me was best for her and the baby, then I wasn't going to argue. "I really miss seeing her grow. Even in the past seven months. Shit, Adam, she's ten months old now, and I haven't seen her since she was three. I wonder if she's smiley and happy, if she scoots or crawls, if she can say 'Mama,' does she clap her hands when she's happy? Hell, what makes her cry? What's her favorite toy? Does she still sleep with the blanket I got her?"

And, I was gone. Adam took me by the elbow and gently guided me outside where I cried on his shoulder for a good thirty minutes. He just held me, not too tight, not sexually, not like a man who expected any kind of thanks in return for letting me ruin a perfectly good shirt.

_Gradually, we grew closer. I started going to the lunch room to eat lunch instead of either not eating or eating mindless snacks at my desk. As another person, I could laugh around him. I couldn't be myself. I could never be myself again, but I could be Emily Schimke. As Emily, I could go out on Friday nights with my coworkers, and even though I never grew close to any of them, I always kept my distance, they didn't know that. They couldn't feel the walls, feel me pull away so sharply that it hurt. _

_The first time Adam kissed me, it was under the mistletoe at the ice skating rink. He had invited mee the Saturday following Christmas to take his nephews skating. I had accepted. His nephews were four and eight, and they eased my ache a little about the daughter that was still in New York, who would be celebrating her first birthday soon. I hoped Casey still got along with her father, that her mother had accepted her daughter, and maybe had accepted her now that she wasn't dating me. I hoped that Megan was good to Temperance and that Olivia was loving her role as auntie. I hoped that the squad was okay and that they were kicking ass and taking names in the name of – fuck it, we all know it's not about justice. Revenge. Punishment. Sure. That. _

"Hey," he said with a smile as he looked up, me gliding along behind him somewhat awkwardly. I glanced up and followed his gaze, the red berries swinging in the wind. He pulled me to him on the skates, and I went, my hand sliding up his chest to his shoulder. Did I care about him? Yes. Did I love him? I could, in that way one loves one's friends. But, he was a man, and as sweet as he was, my libido just wasn't made for a man's satisfaction. I was made to love women. If experience had taught me anything, I was made to love Casey Novak. But, that was impossible, and I could not tolerate the touch of another woman. So, I let myself be touched by a man. I kissed his lips, felt the rough touch of his five o'clock shadow against my cheeks. Even if I closed my eyes, I could not pretend because his scent was too masculine for my tastes. Usually, I preferred to take on that role, the caregiver role. But, maybe, with Emily, I would let myself be cared for, even if I had to force myself.

The boys chorused with an 'eew' that made me want to nod my head in agreement. Instead, I opened myself up to him. For a woman, I was tall. He, like the men of my past, was taller than me, and I had long since perfected the art of wrapping my hands around a man's neck even though I felt like an actress doing so.

"Wow," he breathed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted that kiss."

I turned red, looking away. "Everyone just wants someone good to care about them, Adam. You're a good person." And, I told him the first of many lies in our relationship. "It's difficult not to be attracted to you. I'm sorry if I overstepped -" I didn't get to finish because he was kissing me again. I tried to let myself melt into his mouth, but it was difficult to get past that last major barrier – I was a lesbian.

_He moved as quickly as I would let him which wasn't very fast at all, but by September of 2005, we were practically living together even though we hadn't fucked. I had abandoned my couch for my bed, a man curled behind me in it. At first, I hadn't been able to sleep at night with him. Then, I had been able to silently cry myself to sleep, pillow hugged to my chest as I thought about Casey. Eventually, I abandoned the pillow all together, my hand laced in his across my abdomen. He was so gentle with me, so sweet, that it hurt to think how badly I was lying to him. I lied about who I was not only by name but who I truly was. I lied about why we hadn't had sex yet, though it wasn't him that brought the topic to light. It had been me. Me, stupid, foolish me in the kitchen while preparing breakfast one morning. _

Adam smiled as he wrapped his arms around me, rocking back and forth. "I didn't know anyone could cook as well as you can, Emily," he murmured, kissing my ear.

I smiled, my nails grazing down his arms. "I have many unexplored talents," I responded, pushing aside the familiar ache about not hearing my name. My real name. I had been Emily for two years, but I still hadn't gotten accustomed to it. "You wouldn't believe the things I can do in bed." I had meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I stiffened.

Her let me go, turning me to face him. "Emily, I believe they're worth waiting for. What happened? Why are you so afraid?"

I kissed him, pulling him against me. "I'm not afraid," I answered, pressing my forehead into his chest as I held on to his shirt. For once, my answer wasn't a lie. "I just -"

He smiled, kissing my forehead. "Em, I've been with you eight months. If I were in it for sex, I wouldn't be here right now. I'm in it because of you, because of how much I like you. We never have to have sex if you don't want to."

I let him hold me until the French toast burned and the smoke got so bad I had to move to open a window. As I turned off the stove and cleaned the mess, Adam fanned the smoke alarms until they stopped beeping. My job was complete before his, and I left the kitchen, curling up on the new couch we had bought in August, crying.

He joined me, wrapping himself around me until I relaxed into him. "What's wrong?"

"My daughter turns two in four months, and I don't even know what she looks like," I blurted before covering my mouth with my hands. "I'm sorry, Adam. I don't know where that came from."

"It's okay," he said, stroking my back. "You miss her. I get that. You're allowed to miss her. You've been suppressing that feeling for almost a year. It's going to come out somehow. Have you tried calling her other mom?"

I nodded. "I called on Christmas last year, her first birthday this year, Easter, Independence Day, and once just because. I never heard back. I want to send her stuff, but I don't know what she likes or if it'll be well received by Casey. I just want Temperance to be happy and to grow up well. But, I'm scared that if her life doesn't include me, what will that mean for me? I want to move on, but how do you leave a child behind?"

He held me. "You don't, Emily. You never move on from that."

Maybe not, but dammit if I wouldn't try.

That night, it was the first time I let him see me naked. His mouth on my breasts was rough, the slight poke of his stubble a constant reminder that I was not with a woman. My mind went numb with the foreplay. I was just grateful he didn't ask me to put my mouth around his penis because I just didn't think I could do it.

As I lay beneath him, I put my hands on his chest, stopping him. "Wait," I whispered.

"Emily, if you don't want to, we don't have to."

I shook my head. "It's not that. It's just that I've never been with a man before." I closed my eyes, slowing my heart rate and my breathing. When I opened my eyes again, he was staring at me in surprise.

"I'll be gentle," he murmured. "I promise."

And, true to his word, he was. I curled around him, burying my face into his shoulder. Gentle though he was, my mind was baffled. I, who didn't use toys, who wasn't made mentally for fucking a man even if my body looked like and functioned like every other woman's, was not accustomed to the feel of a man's penis inside me. It felt inherently wrong. I wanted to be sick even as I kissed him, pulled him against me.

I didn't even come close to orgasm, though he didn't know it. I couldn't help but think, as he drifted off to sleep holding me, that any woman would have noticed I had faked it. Once I was sure he was asleep, I slid out of his arms and into my shower where I let myself cry for what I had done.

We had used protection, so I wasn't worried, but I scrubbed myself nearly raw anyway. I stood in the hot water for nearly an hour before forcing myself out. There was nothing I could do to change what I had done. And, I didn't regret it per se. Adam cared for me. I cared for him. I could never love him, not in the way I might love a woman, but my life was all lies here. I lied to him. I lied to myself. I lied to everyone around me.

Carefully, I crawled back into bed, snuggling up against him as I had become accustomed to. I slept just as well without him in my bed as I did with him which I considered progress. He kissed the top of my head. "Are you alright, Em?"

"I'm good," I murmured. "I just needed to shower."

"Okay," he whispered. "Good night, beautiful."

With those last three words, I felt my heart tear, old wounds far from healed. Those were my words, words I uttered to the love of my life, the love who had walked away and left a burning portion of my soul missing. But, I had told her I would stay until she told me to leave, and tell me to leave she had.

It was time to move on and let myself heal. I wasn't going back to New York. Casey and I were never getting back together. And, Emily was, at least, bisexual. It was a facade. I was not bisexual, Emily, Angie, Alex, or anyone else for that matter, but if it took Adam to attach me to Wisconsin, to help me to reincarnate, I would give it a try. If nothing, I deserved the opportunity to be happy, or at least to weigh my options and chose which path I wanted to walk down.

_I wouldn't say intimacy between us ever became a regular thing. I flat didn't like it, but since I wasn't precisely willing to tell him that, it became my little secret. Which also meant that eventually, I ran into a dead end with it. I learned a lot about the male anatomy, but he sensed my hesitation in touching him. Several times, he tried to get me to open up to him, to tell him what had happened to me to make me so nervous. I refused mostly because it wasn't nerves. Still, I bent until I broke, and I kept up appearances. I wondered if he told our coworkers that I was a stone cold bitch in bed. I didn't care. _

_I cried in the shower after he fell asleep for no other reason than because I wanted to go home. I wanted to be Alexandra Cabot again every day of my life. Mourning my own death just was not something I had in me. I had been going through that process in Santa Fe, before Casey, before I had stopped my car. Did I regret bringing her into my life? Nope. I didn't. They were the best seven months of my life even though they were painfully stressful as well. But, it meant that I had never actually had to formally grieve my own losses, my house, my friends, my family in particular my mother, my lovers, myself. Witness Protection had created a new identity for me, one I had never really had to abide by before. And now, for just over eighteen months, I had been strictly confined to being someone who simply wasn't, well, me. _

_He more or less officially moved in. Rather, we both moved to a two story townhouse a few blocks down from the house I had been renting. Some of the furniture was damaged in the move, so we even had 'our' stuff, something I honestly didn't like the sound of. I was Emily Schimke, and because even bisexuality wasn't exactly a hit thing in the town in which I lived, I played a straight woman living an uncomfortable life. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I could check out, my body playing the actor on stage. I was not Emily. My head was not Emily. There grew to be another reason I had to cry in the shower the few precious days before the end of the year. I cried because I understood. I had asked this of Casey when I was still so unwilling to do it myself. I had asked her to give up everything I had given up before I really knew what I was giving up. Had she known, too? Had she seen what I did not? I cried because it was an incredibly selfish act, and I couldn't even tell her I was sorry._

I lay on my back in the center of the bed on a Saturday morning listening to the sounds of the water running in the bathroom, the gentle plod of water from the shower head as he moved around. Closing my eyes, I touched my lids, feeling the movement of my own eye ball beneath my finger pads. I knew I had to try to move past it, but I couldn't help but wonder what Casey was doing with Tee for Christmas that year. It would be her first real Christmas because, presumably, she was up and walking, babbling, talking. She would be able to rip the paper off the presents, and, if she was anything like the little girl I imagined her to be, she would be more interested in the pretty paper than her actual presents.

It didn't take much to imagine her tumbling around in one of the boxes, packing peanuts everywhere. Olivia, at least, would be there because unless she had changed a lot in two years, she would still be single. Fin might be there and Munch, too. If they had the squad's Christmas before Christmas day, Elliott would be there. Don would be, too. I wondered what the squad's captain thought of our daughter. Did she call him grandpa like Casey had suggested she would? I wondered if she knew about me.

I had pulled up the domestic case only once, behind Monica's back, while I was working on translating some documents from German for her. The domestic case was civil in nature and gave both myself and Casey equal rights and responsibilities over Temperance's well being. As far as I could tell, Casey had never filed for revocation of the order which surprised and confused me even more. Did she not think I would act on it? I wouldn't, it was true, but if she trusted me in that, then why-

I felt a body curl beside me, warm, muscled arm over my stomach. Turning, I kissed the man I considered nothing more than my best friend. "Mm," I murmured, "you smell good." I buried my face against his still shower warm skin, inhaling his scent to drown out the thought of Casey. In four months, it would be two years since I had seen her or heard from her. Monica gave me welfare updates irregularly, usually just enough to tell me that they were alive and safe and nothing more, and I had stopped asking for them all together. Eventually, they would stop coming. The problem was, I didn't really want to get over her. I couldn't.

Adam shifted so that he was holding me, and I curled into his lap, allowing it. "It's almost Christmas," he whispered.

I nodded. "I know," I answered, choking back a sob. "I'm being ridiculous. I'm sorry. I should just accept that she won't be in my life. I won't ever hear her say 'Momma' or watch her dance or play sports. I bet she already knows how to hold a bat. Damn it, listen to me. You probably think I'm pathetic."

Adam kissed the top of my head, rocking me. "It's okay, Emily. I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're normal. Its going to take time, sweetie. Once you accept that the pain won't go away over night, it'll become easier. It'll never go away, but it'll be easier."

After a while, I just let him hold me for the sake of being held. He didn't complain. Really, if I even remotely swung that way, I could be with him for a long time. He was so good to me, and I didn't know why. Eventually, I took to humming the Mr. Softee song. I wanted to go home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so I decided I didn't like CH 2, so I made it more cannon. From Alex taking the picture from Jack to her saying "...take my conscience, too," that all comes straight from the show. I like it better this way. **

_I wouldn't say intimacy between us ever became a regular thing. I flat didn't like it, but since I wasn't precisely willing to tell him that, it became my little secret. Which also meant that eventually, I ran into a dead end with it. I learned a lot about the male anatomy, but he sensed my hesitation in touching him. Several times, he tried to get me to open up to him, to tell him what had happened to me to make me so nervous. I refused mostly because it wasn't nerves. Still, I bent until I broke, and I kept up appearances. I wondered if he told our coworkers that I was a stone cold bitch in bed. I didn't care. _

_I cried in the shower after he fell asleep for no other reason than because I wanted to go home. I wanted to be Alexandra Cabot again every day of my life. Mourning my own death just was not something I had in me. I had been going through that process in Santa Fe, before Casey, before I had stopped my car. Did I regret bringing her into my life? Nope. I didn't. They were the best seven months of my life even though they were painfully stressful as well. But, it meant that I had never actually had to formally grieve my own losses, my house, my friends, my family in particular my mother, my lovers, myself. Witness Protection had created a new identity for me, one I had never really had to abide by before. And now, for just over eighteen months, I had been strictly confined to being someone who simply wasn't, well, me. _

_He more or less officially moved in. Rather, we both moved to a two story townhouse a few blocks down from the house I had been renting. Some of the furniture was damaged in the move, so we even had 'our' stuff, something I honestly didn't like the sound of. I was Emily Schimke, and because even bisexuality wasn't exactly a hit thing in the town in which I lived, I played a straight woman living an uncomfortable life. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I could check out, my body playing the actor on stage. I was not Emily. My head was not Emily. There grew to be another reason I had to cry in the shower the few precious days before the end of the year. I cried because I understood. I had asked this of Casey when I was still so unwilling to do it myself. I had asked her to give up everything I had given up before I really knew what I was giving up. Had she known, too? Had she seen what I did not? I cried because it was an incredibly selfish act, and I couldn't even tell her I was sorry._

I lay on my back in the center of the bed on a Saturday morning listening to the sounds of the water running in the bathroom, the gentle plod of water from the shower head as he moved around. Closing my eyes, I touched my lids, feeling the movement of my own eye ball beneath my finger pads. I knew I had to try to move past it, but I couldn't help but wonder what Casey was doing with Tee for Christmas that year. It would be her first real Christmas because, presumably, she was up and walking, babbling, talking. She would be able to rip the paper off the presents, and, if she was anything like the little girl I imagined her to be, she would be more interested in the pretty paper than her actual presents.

It didn't take much to imagine her tumbling around in one of the boxes, packing peanuts everywhere. Olivia, at least, would be there because unless she had changed a lot in two years, she would still be single. Fin might be there and Munch, too. If they had the squad's Christmas before Christmas day, Elliott would be there. Don would be, too. I wondered what the squad's captain thought of our daughter. Did she call him grandpa like Casey had suggested she would? I wondered if she knew about me.

I had pulled up the domestic case only once, behind Monica's back, while I was working on translating some documents from German for her. The domestic case was civil in nature and gave both myself and Casey equal rights and responsibilities over Temperance's well being. As far as I could tell, Casey had never filed for revocation of the order which surprised and confused me even more. Did she not think I would act on it? I wouldn't, it was true, but if she trusted me in that, then why-

I felt a body curl beside me, warm, muscled arm over my stomach. Turning, I kissed the man I considered nothing more than my best friend. "Mm," I murmured, "you smell good." I buried my face against his still shower warm skin, inhaling his scent to drown out the thought of Casey. In four months, it would be two years since I had seen her or heard from her. Monica gave me welfare updates irregularly, usually just enough to tell me that they were alive and safe and nothing more, and I had stopped asking for them all together. Eventually, they would stop coming. The problem was, I didn't really want to get over her. I couldn't.

Adam shifted so that he was holding me, and I curled into his lap, allowing it. "It's almost Christmas," he whispered.

I nodded. "I know," I answered, choking back a sob. "I'm being ridiculous. I'm sorry. I should just accept that she won't be in my life. I won't ever hear her say 'Momma' or watch her dance or play sports. I bet she already knows how to hold a bat. Damn it, listen to me. You probably think I'm pathetic."

Adam kissed the top of my head, rocking me. "It's okay, Emily. I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're normal. Its going to take time, sweetie. Once you accept that the pain won't go away over night, it'll become easier. It'll never go away, but it'll be easier."

After a while, I just let him hold me for the sake of being held. He didn't complain. Really, if I even remotely swung that way, I could be with him for a long time. He was so good to me, and I didn't know why. Eventually, I took to humming the Mr. Softee song. I wanted to go home.

_If any day of the year were the most painful, it was Christmas day. Two years prior, I had imagined myself sitting in New York City in Casey's apartment laughing and whispering and talking while we convinced Tee to finish opening her presents or finish her breakfast or sing and dance to the radio. I imagined surprising my two girls with a carriage ride through Central Park, building snow forts before the general dirt of the city made the snow too dirty to play in, and snuggling under blankets in the bed with hot cocoa and whatever movie would become our tradition. I imagined I would have a family._

_Adam was a good man. He really, truly was. It was impossible to find fault with him without nitpicking, and even though I was stellar at nitpicking, I didn't have the heart. After all, he was falling in love with a woman who could not return the sentiment. I almost pitied him, though that made me feel like a bitch. How fair was it to him that I strung him along? For that matter how fair was it to me? Yet, I knew, if I broke it off with him, then I wouldn't be seeing anyone for a very long time, if ever. I wondered of I could talk Mark or Monica into moving me._

_It was Adam's presence in my life that made Valentine's day the next year so fucking difficult. By February of 2006, I had succumbed to the fact that my life was moving quickly and without my control. It didn't matter if I wanted to go backwards, the world kept turning forward, time moved in the same direction and the same pace. And, it was too fast. It had always been too fast._

"Good morning, sleepy girl," Adam murmured as he kissed my forehead. I had been awake as I frequently was, though I seldom let him know. I preferred to fake being asleep, whatever that meant for my morality.

Blinking sleepily, I stretched my arms up and smiled. "Good morning, honey," I purred as I arched my back, sighing as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him against me. I had grown so accustomed to him kissing me that it didn't phase me any more. I consistently felt like an asshole, but the emotional support he offered was worth the romantic return, even if I weren't being totally honest. He didn't know that, and I tried my best to never let him know.

"Come on," he said, pulling away. I was always internally grateful when he pulled away first. It was impossible to lose my breath kissing him. I just didn't feel that way. But, as I kept telling myself, he was a good man, and in a town where I had already rocked the boat by being with a woman once, I was anxious not to rock the boat again.

Stepping out of bed, I noticed my feet landing on something soft. Surprised, I glanced down at the trail of rose petals leading out of the bedroom. Curious, I glanced up at Adam, soft smile gracing my lips. I called it my Emily smile because as Alex, I never had cause to smile like the love sick damsel. Love sick, perhaps. Damsel, never.

"Close your eyes." I did. I felt his hand cover my eyes, his other laced in mine as he guided me along the path of roses and down the stairs into the living room.

When he removed his hand and stopped walking, I opened my eyes, catching my breath at the sight before me. He had placed dozens of bouquets of red and white roses around the room, and in the center, there was a breakfast picnic spread out of Belgian waffles, vanilla ice cream, and strawberries. One of few truths in our relationship was my favorite breakfast, and he remembered it.

I turned and kissed him because I didn't know what else to do. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stroking my hair out of my face. I had returned to blond almost as soon as I had left New York. I just didn't want the memories that went with sneaking around.

"And, all I got you was a card and a watch," I teased.

He smiled. "Breakfast is for two. You can make it up to me by sharing." I laughed, nodding. Catching me off guard, he picked me up, kissing me. I wrapped my body automatically around his, missing him back. On the surface, we were that Hallmark couple everyone thinks they want to be. And, maybe, deep down, he was the Hallmark man every straight woman wants, but my inner turmoil raged on. I had found the right woman for me, and though she was no Hallmark woman, she was perfect.

_It was two days later that Jack Hammond knocked on my door explaining that Casey had damn near committed career suicide by charging a man with my murder. I wasn't kidding about the Marshals not getting through my door because Don Cragen or not, not a single fucking Marshal was going to talk to me. Since David's case closed late August 2005, and Andy had pled guilty to kidnapping in November, my cause to talk to Monica had gone out the window. Mark was my only point of contact despite Jesse still being at large. I worried for Casey's safety from him but knew she and the baby were surrounded by the right people to protect them. Our cases no longer overlapped, and I had started trying to deal with her as though she had died instead of left._

_Her charging Liam Connors set me back so far on that it wasn't funny. Adam was home, upstairs when they knocked, and I ran up to send him out with orders not to return until I texted him. He went, kissing me good bye after I had introduced Don as Edward, my father. Adam had made some comment about our similarities, thanked him for raising me well, and disappeared expressing the hope that they would get to talk more later. Don, thankfully, played the role perfectly._

"Thanks," I mumbled, gesturing for both men to sit down. Don kept staring at me like he couldn't believe I was alive. Olivia and Elliot really hadn't told anyone, and Casey apparently hadn't either. "It's good to see you again."

"You as well, Alex," Don said as he took a seat on my overstuffed chair. "How are you doing?"

I looked over to the door Adam had walked out of. "I give it a month before he asks Emily to marry him," I said.

Don nodded. "Forgive me, but I was under the impression you weren't the, uh, marrying type."

I laughed, the tension in the room easing considerably. "I'm not, not really. But, if I'm going to be Emily forever, I guess Emily can be the marrying type."

Jack leaned forward and handed me a photograph. I took it from him, staring down at the booking picture, biting my lip. "So, this is what he looks like?" I asked rhetorically. "Every time a stranger glanced at me, I thought 'has he found me? Is he going to kill me?' And, now I know." I sighed, staring down. This was a lot more difficult than I presumed it would be. Could I face this man? He didn't look scary or evil, though his eyes had that certain emptiness I had grown accustomed to seeing in the eyes of men who had lost their souls. David had those eyes, those terrible eyes.

But, could I go back to New York? Could I stand before Casey again? That was my bigger demon, and I knew the two men sitting across from me didn't understand. I bit my lip hard. My instinct was to decline, so I sat in silence until my logical, reasoning brain kicked in. I looked at Jack, long and hard. "I would like nothing more than to see Liam Connors pay for what he did to me, but it goes against every principal I have as a lawyer to try a man for a crime he didn't commit." What I meant was that I didn't think I could see Casey again, and she was the prosecutor on that particular case.

Going to New York meant facing demons that were, to me, much more significant than the cartel. It meant being an arm's reach from my daughter and not being able to see her. Not only would it reopen old wounds, it would create new ones. That, and, I wasn't angry at Casey. I was hurt and confused, but I had never been truly angry at her. I had just believed she had her reasons, and I would honor that. But, if I went back, and it turned out that she didn't have her reasons, what was I going to do? I didn't want to be angry with her. Above everything, I still loved her.

"You understand, I didn't have a choice," Don said, and my heart went out. I knew that. If Olivia and Elliot had truly kept my secret, he didn't. But, Casey did. Not true. She didn't really have a choice, either, though. I had forced her hand in this by being her ex-girlfriend.

"I know you can't commit perjury," I said, leaning forward, tempted to bite my lip as I always had when playing the soft hearted Emily. But, I wasn't her. I was before two people who knew me as Alexandra Cabot. "You're going to have to tell the court that I'm alive."

"I'm only sorry the bastard won't have to answer for what he did to you," the captain interjected. Inside I smiled. He was so protective. He always had been. I wondered how he was with Temperance. Did that same protective streak come out? I would stake my life that it did.

"Oh, he will. I want him charged with my attempted murder."

I could almost hear Jack scream his disapproval. For that matter, Mark and I would be having a long conversation, too. "Now, you'd have to go back and testify; that's stepping right into the cross hairs."

"For years, I convinced victims to face their attackers. Now it's time for me to step up," I said. I'd go back, but it wouldn't be for Casey. If I went back for this, it had to be for me, and damn it if I didn't want it. I was angry and hurt all over again. It was those first few weeks in Santa Fe when I was afraid but so, so angry. Why me? Had been my question then. Now, with his picture in my hand, I figured if not me, then who? Who else could help bring this bastard to his knees?

Don shook his head. "Your testimony won't help the case. You can't ID Connors as your shooter." He had a strong point, but I had a stronger one. I wanted this. And, what I wanted, damn it, I got.

So, I did what I did best. I argued my point. Already, I felt more powerful, stronger than I had in years. "If I don't go back, the defense will issue a missing witness charge and then you will lose your case."

Jack, damn him, countered. "But, we've still got Connors on four counts of murder."

I wanted to scream at him that this was personal."Because an eight year old boy has the guts to testify after being shot twice." I could feel my anger.

So could Don. "Alex," he cautioned. "If you go back, they will try and kill you again."

"I have lost my home, my job, my friends, my mother died and I couldn't go to the funeral." I was so close to tears it wasn't even right. I hadn't cried in front of anyone since Christmas. Damn this all. Damn it all to Casey's Catholic Hell. "Liam Connors is not going to take my conscience, too."

The staring contest between me and the two men seemed to last forever. Finally, it was Jack who sighed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Fine, pack a bag. You won't be coming back." Agent Hammond stood up. I stared at him, wide eyed. "We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Do you want help?"

I shook my head, grabbing my suitcase from the foyer closet and hiking it upstairs to fold what clothes I would need for at least two weeks until they got me settled some place new.

The last thing I grabbed was from my jewelry box. The mostly red heart pendant that Casey had gotten me for Christmas in 2003 had been worn so much that I had replaced the chain. Using the little latch that was front and center on the front side of the heart, I opened the tiny compartment. It wasn't that small, really. She had managed to fit a size eight and a half diamond engagement ring into it, a little note rolled up with tiny handwriting that I knew all too well as hers.

_Will we grow old__  
__You with me,__  
__And live together__  
__In our castle by the sea?_

I had opened it before we left Ireland, but I had never said anything. She had told me the secret to opening it was the secret to getting into her heart. Me? I had opened the door and walked in. I got through her walls by walking straight through them. She wore her emotions on her sleeve when she was alone with me. I knew her well enough even then for her to have been obvious to me. It never occurred to me the latch may have been hidden. Not traditional, sure, but never hidden.

As I examined the ring, I sighed. I wish I had told her yes. I wish I had said anything, but I hadn't. I had clamped up and never said a word. For one, it wasn't legal. For another, that would mean she had to give up her life as Casey Novak to be with me or I had to put her and Tee in even more danger by moving to New York. I had planned on telling her January of this year, of 2006, when the Marshals determined that the storm had blown over. But, that hadn't happened.

I picked up the ring my grandmother had given me when I had come out to her. She would be so disappointed in me. She gave up true romantic love in a facade of heterosexuality and had sincerely hoped I wouldn't do the same. Yet, here I was, doing exactly that. I bit my lip. The plan had been to give it to Casey when it was safe to be in New York permanently. And, now, I was sitting at the crossroads between too little and too late.

Sighing softly, I put Casey's ring back in the pendant, clipped the heart around my neck. I wondered if she still wore the locket and the bracelet or what had become their fate in the almost two years since I'd heard her voice. Tucking my grandmother's ring in its box, I set that in my suitcase, too. I might never need it, but it was too much a sentiment to leave behind.

"Alright," I said, dragging the suitcase down the stairs. "I don't need anything else."

Jack nodded, and I followed him and Cragen out of the house, locking it behind me for the last time.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I updated CH 2 so it reads closer to Ghost. That said, there is a familiar portion of this chapter, too, from where Casey tells Elliot and Olivia they should have trusted her to roughly where Casey is arguing with defense before the judge that's from Ghost with creative license into Alex's thought process. In both this and the previous chapter, and any chapter that uses scenes from the show, I mean no infringement upon any sort of copy or legal right anyone has to the show. This is all in good fun and no profit is being made unless you count the ego boost I get from all of the wonderful reviews I read. **

_I was nervous as a butterfly in the car ride to the airport. Don didn't know quite why I was wringing my hands so much or why it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Jack did. In the early days, Jack more than anyone else had been the one to tell me that Casey was doing okay, that the cartel hadn't gotten to her or Temperance and that they were busy if not at least on the surface happy. It had taken weeks for me to feel like I could talk to Jack. I hadn't realized he had been told that Casey and I were more than just coworkers and friends, but in the end, I guessed it were obvious. I chewed at my lip. At least in my life, I was surrounded by decent people. _

_I thought about the note on the nightstand I had left Adam. He had a key, after all. It was our townhouse. _

Adam,  
I left with my father and Jack.  
It turns out I haven't been completely honest with you.  
My life is more than I've ever said it is.  
Please forgive me, but I have to go.  
Love Always,  
Emily

_I really did feel badly for him, but I wasn't coming back. I wouldn't be Emily again. After this, maybe I would be a Sarah or a Susan or a Michelle, but never Emily again. And, I couldn't help but wonder if that weren't a good thing. Even as we drove to the airport, I could feel Emily's depression leaving me. It was replaced with my own, Alexandra's, anxieties and worries and insecurities, but at least those were familiar to me. I could handle those. _

"Why is the trial moving so fast?" I finally asked, leaning forward in my seat to talk to the two men in the front. I had been largely quiet, but now that we were pulling in to the airport parking lot, I had more questions than answers.

Don turned around. "We've got an indictment back from the Grand Jury as of this morning. The judge wants a witness list by tomorrow from both parties, and Connors refused to waive his right to a speedy trial. You up for this?"

"Testifying? I guess. I really don't have a choice. You guys open your mouths, and I'm the silver tongued princess who has to clean everything up again." I winked, smiling. Damn it if I would betray the twisting, turning, knotting feeling growing inside my stomach.

"What about seeing everyone again?"

I bit my lip. "It'll be nice. I've missed home, Don. I really have." He held his hand out, and I grasped it solidly in my own. Don had been like a surrogate father to me while I had been the unit's prosecutor, and that had meant a lot. He was like a father, I had noticed, to everyone in the unit. I was half tempted to ask if Temperance called him Grandpa, but I didn't. That would blow that Casey knew I was alive before she charged Liam, and that could cost her not only her career but the trial. If Liam was the asshole who shot me, I wanted him to go down.

Call it what you will, but I had no forgiveness in my heart for the man who shot me and worked for a raping, murdering, son of a bitch. I wanted Zapata to go down as well, but I would start with his peons.

_The irony of it was not lost on me. And, maybe irony is not quite the right world, but the complexity was not lost all the same. Two years ago, this trial would have been something Casey and I jumped at, turned around and begged the Marshals to call it safe. Now, I just wanted to get the trial over with and leave again. The most painful part was going to be seeing Casey, reviewing testimony with Casey, being so fucking close to her and knowing it wouldn't last, that it was all professional, and that there was a very slim chance she would let me see my daughter. _

I found myself so nervous on the plane as we landed that I threw up twice once we deboarded in the woman's restroom. I explained it off as nausea from the flight. Don didn't know better, so he just kindly offered some tips about how to keep my stomach settled on planes. I smiled and thanked him, though the look he gave me as I turned away was the classic look he had when he thought more was going on. I wouldn't tell him he was right. I wouldn't need to. He already knew.

Jack drove us all to the District Attorney's office where I was told to stay in the car. I licked my lips knowing exactly what was going to happen. I held my breath as Don got out and went in. Fifteen minutes later, he came out, Casey Novak, red hair and all, following him. I gasped, my heart actually hurting with the sight of her. Breathing heavily, I stared at Jack. "I don't think I can do this," I said.

"Suck it up, Alex," he said. "You wanted to come back."

I nodded, blinking rapidly as I gained my Cabot composure back. Casey opened the door opposite mine in the back seat. "Don, what's going -" She stopped, staring at me. I watched her mouth drop open a little bit. Two years had done her good. She had been beautiful before, but she was heart breaking now. She looked confident, together, stronger. I could see the crack seeing me put in her features, though. Underneath it all, in there somewhere, was the same Casey I had left behind two years ago. But, she had grown.

"Can we have the car?" Casey asked the agent and the captain. Don gave us both a strange look, but Jack nodded, sliding out of the driver's seat and walking around to Don. "Thanks."

She got in the car beside me, shutting the door. "You came back," she said, licking her lips.

I nodded. "I had to. I want Liam to go down, Casey, but I cannot, cannot let you charge him with something he didn't do."

She wrung her hands. "Are you going to tell the bar that I knew you were alive?" she asked, not looking at my face, but my knees.

"No," I said. "We're going to pretend like you thought I was dead. It'll keep your license in tact."

"Olivia knows we were together once upon a time ago."

"She thinks it was before I was shot still?" Casey nodded. "Then, that's what we'll say if anyone asks." I stopped, holding my breath for a few moments. Part of me deep down wanted to do nothing more than kiss her, to push her back into the seat and kiss her with the two years of pure need I had held in my gut since I left that last message. It had only been six months since I had deleted her number out of my phone.

"I'm sorry," Casey said, still staring at my knees like they would talk back. "About all of this. I didn't mean to bring you back."

"Do you want me here?" I asked, expecting the worst.

She looked up at me, then, and I looked into her eyes. She had practiced maintaining her composure, too. Her eyes were all business, like mine. They matched, and that scared me. These two years had not been easy on either of us, though, perhaps for entirely different reasons. "Will you stay?"

"Once they know I'm alive, they'll come after you and Temperance." She nodded. "How is she?"

"Good. She's in daycare three mornings a week for the socialization. Megan is still her nanny. She's behind for her age, but the doctor thinks she might catch up now that she's in daycare and can learn from other kids her age, too."

I nodded. "How is she behind?"

"Mostly, she's having trouble communicating, remembering words. She'll know 'ball' one minute, but forget it the next. Sometimes, she looks at me like I'm speaking a different language. Not in the defiant two year old way, but the one where I don't think she gets what I'm saying even though she understood me the day before." Casey looked down in her lap, biting her lip. "Her pediatrician says it could go one of two ways. The communication difficulties could be an effect of her premature delivery or any number of other incidents that occurred while I was still pregnant. Or, it could be that she is temporarily struggling and that she'll catch up. They work with her a lot on naming things in daycare, and I do, too, at home."

I felt tears spring to my eyes as I nodded. "Does she know who I am?" I asked, my voice tight with emotion.

The answer I received genuinely surprised me. I didn't know what I expected, but I was still shocked. "Yes," Casey said, nodding her head. "The picture of you and me at the studio, the one where you're talking to her, that's still on her dresser. That's one of the few things she says with consistency. 'Momma' and 'Mommy.' She knows you're Momma. She doesn't understand what it means, but she won't call me Momma by accident, either."

I inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. I was going to cry. "Why, Casey?"

"Why what?" Casey asked as she looked at me, confusion and hurt brimming in her eyes. "You've always been her mother, Alex. I'm never taking that away from you. No matter where you go or who you are, you'll always be her mother."

I bit my lip I knew this would be emotional, but I had no idea just how emotional. I wanted to ask her if I could see her, but I didn't want to risk being told 'no' just yet, either. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She smiled a little. "I'm off most of those meds, just aspirin and hormonal supplements now."

"Good for you, Casey. I'm glad." I wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, to run my fingers through her strands like old times. I wanted to pull her against me and feel the rhythm of her breathing against my chest until my breaths matched hers or hers matched mine – I was never sure which one of us synced to the other. "A red head again, I see," I said instead.

She nodded. "And, you a blond. Some things never change." She met my eyes again, and neither of us spoke or moved or blinked for what felt like forever. In movies, sometimes, there's a visual that aids moments like this, moments when two swirling masses of light, each previously headed separate directions come close enough together that they seem magnetically attracted to each other, so much so that they divert their normal course and they start heading towards each other in a rush of sound and light and color.

And then, they collide with such a powerful impact that the viewer is startled, even though he knows it's going to happen. And, as she twisted so that she was sitting on her knees facing me, the jolt went through me. It had an actual force that I trembled as it hit. Tentatively, she reached out, her fingers brushing my cheek. I closed my eyes, pushing my face against her hand. I could smell her warm vanilla scent encircling me, and the next thing I knew, my hand was lightly entangled in her hair, and her lips had crashed down over mine. For the first time in two years, I didn't want to come up for air.

"Oh, God, Alex," Casey mewled, her fingers tucking and retucking my hair behind my ears, her thumbs running over my cheeks, fingers over my lips. We were both panting. Whatever had brought us together as such a strong force almost three years prior still existed between us. Magnets, I thought. We were like magnets if magnets could starve without their opposite.

As she moved to kiss me again, I stopped her. "Casey, wait. We have a lot to talk about, and now's not the time."

She pulled away sharply. "You're right," she said, straightening her clothes. I hadn't realized I had untucked her shirt in the process, but apparently I had because she struggled to make it look like it was meant to be untucked. I pulled the rest of her shirt out of the back of her pants, my fingers grazing her lower back accidentally. We both froze. I pulled away as quickly as I could, shocked by the heat between us.

Carefully, Casey got out of the car after she fixed her lipstick in the mirror. I wondered if either man would notice that my lipstick was less bright when they got back in the car, or if they would notice that Casey's was pretty much gone. "We should probably head to the station, Don," Casey said as she leaned out the door. "Elliot and Olivia are going to want to see Alex."

The car ride to the precinct was quiet. Neither Casey nor I looked at the other, and we were pretty much studiously in our own worlds. Jack and Don both knew better than to ask questions, albeit for different reasons.

I followed Casey up the stairs to the precinct. She held up a finger, bidding me and my escort to stay outside the door, and I watched her walk in, every ounce of confidence she had when that car door first opened back in her step and the square of her shoulders. Yes, she bore the burden of prosecuting sex crimes. But, at least she bore it well.

"We work together. You should have trusted me," I heard her say, presumably to Elliot and Olivia whose asses were essentially screwed.

"We made a promise." Olivia's voice sent my heart racing again. My best friend was so close once again. Except, this time, I would be able to see her.

Casey didn't sound too happy with either of them when she responded. I didn't blame her. We had to pretend she didn't know I was alive. "You hung me out to dry in court."

"We gunna need lawyers?" I pressed my hand to the wall, focusing on my breathing. Elliot, the brother I never had. I closed my eyes. Come on, Cabot, this shouldn't be hard, I chanted mentally. I was a Cabot. I could maintain my cool. I felt it wash over me.

"I hope not," Casey said, my cue.

I stepped into the room, meeting Casey's eyes over Olivia's back. Both detectives turned to me. "Alex," Olivia breathed.

"You didn't have to come back," Elliot said.

I almost told him not to be ungrateful. "I know," I said, irritation lacing my voice as I folded my arms across my chest. "But who else is gunna get you out of trouble?" Olivia smiled.

Casey stood up from her perch on the desk, still looking angry. "Before everyone gets reacquainted, they're waiting for us in court." When she walked past me, I felt anger roll off her. Was she truly mad at me? Or, at some point, did she become such a good actress that even I couldn't see through her walls?

_Once more, I found myself in a familiar court house, in a familiar waiting area, butterflies racing through my stomach. We had walked, me and my four arms escorts, the less than five minutes from the precinct to the courthouse. Really, we could have walked to the precinct once we were at the DA's office, but I had been grateful for the car. The car turned the ten minute walk into a two minute drive. It was still so awkward being around Casey, even with the impressive kiss we had shared. _

Jack opened the door to the court room, and I followed him in, fear and nerves compounded to race through my body. Liam would be sitting there, I knew it, and that scared me. A man who had the gall to shoot me. It was one thing to see a picture. Another thing entirely to see him face to face. And, when I saw him, a rush of pure fear jolted through me. I wanted to run, to flee. I wanted to scream and turn and never look back, but if an eight year old could face him, so could I.

I felt the judge's eyes on me, Liam's eyes. I walked past Casey, feeling her eyes on me. Liam's eyes followed me, too, but it was the sensation of Casey watching me that I focused on to center myself. Two years later, and she could still make me feel calm inside, no matter what kind of chaos was raging externally, I could still look at her, think of her, and feel peace. Leaving this time was going to be the hardest thing I would ever do. The sheer magnitude of our reactions to each other told me there was still something there, something worth saving. Casey's motives for leaving me, for telling Monica to tell me to stop calling went right out the window. We were broken, but not beyond repair. Leaving one more time might shatter us completely.

I felt Liam's eyes on me, and I looked at him, satisfied to see the shock there, the fear. Would he be punished because I was alive? Or did he know he would be found guilty? I listened to Casey argue the new charges and Olivia and Elliot's freedom only half heartedly, my chin up. Most of my focus was going on keeping myself breathing. It helped that I was in a familiar place, a court room, where I had dominated the scene for several years. She was as good a prosecutor as I had hoped, quick on her feet. We would have worked well together.

It was with a sort of slam that I realized this was the first time I had seen Casey in court. I had seen her rehearse several times for a trial, but I had never seen her live. I focused on that, watching her work. I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't sexy.

She kept the detectives out of jail, and I smirked, looking at Liam. Fucker, I wanted to say, you're not getting away with what you did. I wanted to make sure he would never hurt someone again, and as Casey stopped before our quartet on the way out, our eyes locked. The same determination to put that rabid dog down was in her eyes as it was in mine. I gave her my Cabot smile, the one I gave defendants when I knew I had them. And, for the first time in two years, I saw her return the same smile back to me, though she had made it her own.

The detectives and the federal agent stepped out first. "Eat shit, Connors," I whispered, my lips close to her ear.

Casey nodded. "Oh, he will."

"Nice job up there," I said, and Agent Hammond fell into step behind us. Olivia glanced back, between Casey and I. Elliot just looked at me. I smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

_Certain feelings are the most natural thing in the world. There was nothing easy between me and Casey for most of the rest of the day while I sat in her office, the redhead in charge of me given that the general security in the DA's office was actually probably better than at the police station. Plus, something about the DA hearing I was alive and wanting to talk to me. I knew what it was about, and it came as no surprise to me that he told me I had a position whenever I came back permanently. It took a while to explain to him why returning wasn't necessarily an option without involving Casey. She was already in some hot water, and I did not want to be the one to cause and waves there. At least, that part, I could smooth out with her boss, assuring him that she could not, in any way, have known that I was alive. Silver tongued princess, indeed_.

That meeting had left me back in Casey's office while Hammond arranged my hotel and security for the next several days. "You could stay at my place," Casey whispered as I hung up with Jack.

I looked at Casey, exhaling. "Maybe in a couple of days, Casey. Right now, I'm too overwhelmed."

She nodded once and went back to attending to the file on her desk. For several long seconds, we remained silent, nothing but the sound of her pen moving over the paper and the occasional turn of the sheet. Awkward could not even begin to cover it. Tension was high between us. There was that electricity and that kiss, but the heat and anger from her at the precinct before court, that had not been a good job acting. It had been real, and I had no idea what it meant or how to approach the subject. This was very new to me. "What are you working on?" I finally asked.

"Homicide," she said, not looking up. I licked my lips. Jack could have put me with any of the detectives. Instead, I was Casey's Velcro, and it was tense and awkward and painful. It was also deliberate on Jack's part. That much was obvious. What I didn't understand was why. Was he trying to punish me for wanting to testify?

"Can I help?" I asked, trying to decide whether or not I should stand up and move closer or keep my distance. I couldn't read Casey. She had closed down damn near completely, and I couldn't figure it out. She left me, not the other way around, so why was she acting like she was mad at me?

Casey looked up. "You're here to testify. I think that's enough help." She didn't sound pleased, and I scooted back from her on the couch, sinking in to the cushions, my hands petting the leather. It was the couch I has purchased when I still worked in the same office.

"I'm sorry, Casey."

She stared at me. "What for, Alexandra?" she asked, breaking the syllables in my name apart the same way my mother had.

I bit my lip. If she wanted specifics, I couldn't tell her, though in general, I was sorry for everything bad that had ever happened, particularly over the last two years even though it was her disallowing me to contact her. "Fuck, Casey, everything. For being selfish most of all."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, turning her chair to face me. She looked confused, hurt.

"I asked you to give this up without ever really having given it up myself. It's why you left, isn't it? I -"

She stared at me. "What are you talking about?" She repeated, slowly, emphasizing each word individually as if I had missed something.

Blinking, I stared at her. "What happened between us?" I finally asked.

"Well, for the first two days you were gone, I was going to explode at you for keeping secrets. Then, when I called you back, you never called me. You vanished, Alex, and no one would tell me why. I don't know what I thought or why. You were just gone, and I was busy trying to pass the time until Easter when you were due back. Then, I heard about your uncle, and I thought it must be to keep you safe, surely you would call when it was safe. Then Easter came and went, and nothing, not even a note passed through the agents. I thought you'd still come back. I waited for anything, and by the time you sent something, I was so hurt and confused I just sent it back. And, nothing ever came again. I thought for sure, no matter how mad you were at me or how much you didn't want to be with me, you'd get word to Tem on her birthday. Guess I was wrong there, too."

It was my turn to be confused. "What are you talking about?" I snapped. "Casey, you never called me."

"Like Hell," Casey barked, pulling her cell phone out of her purse. "Every fucking day for two years I've called you, then, you come parading back in here like you're gonna pick up the pieces and give me shit about covering your ass."

She threw the phone at me, and I caught it against my chest, shocked that she had actually thrown it at me. I opened the phone as she intended me to do, scrolling through her made calls. Every day at eight am, my number popped up as a dialed call, every day, less than ten seconds duration, just long enough to ring to voicemail.

"I deserve to be mad. You walked out. You promised. I'm sorry I didn't answer those first two days after you left. I was hurt and confused. You lied to me, and I didn't know what to do. Like Hell you didn't know why you had a long leash. They didn't even know. Monica didn't even know where in Ireland you took me. You said you told them, you got the approval. Fuck, Alex, something could have happened and we would have been stranded. Do you have any idea how much that scares me? And, not just because of the cartel but because of Jesse? Monica fretted over your family knowing you're alive, between that and what happened, I agonized over why your father couldn't know you were alive. I had nightmares about you. And, you just took off on me, walked out like it meant nothing."

My own anger flared up. "I walked out?" I barked, heat evident in my voice. "I walked out? Seriously, Casey, you could have come with me to Wisconsin first of all. Yes, it would have been a lot for you to give up, but I thought I made myself clear. I'm was there until you told me to go. And, last thing I know, you're telling Monica to tell me not to call you because you don't even have the decency to call me yourself. It was a bitch move, Casey. Knowing I would get to see you with how in love with you I was was what made Wisconsin tolerable. I was okay staying because at least they wouldn't come after you or Tee. Dammit, you two were my only family in a world where I didn't come from anywhere. I would have given up the world to keep you safe. I thought that was what I was doing. Yeah, you deserve better than me, but if you wanted to break up, you should have told me."

And then, I said something I instantly regretted. "Bet that made your parents proud, huh? Stomping on the heart of some fucking dike."

That pushed Casey over the edge, and I watched as tears I had caused spilled over her cheeks. "Go to Hell, Cabot," she sobbed. "Go to fucking Hell. You're a bitch for everything you've done, and you're right, I deserve better than you."

I clasped my hands over my mouth in disbelief. I couldn't have said that, could I? "Casey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -"

"Liar. Don't say it. You may regret verbalizing something so callous, but like Hell you didn't mean it. Give me some credit. I'm not a moron." Casey curled up like the pain was physical, not emotional. Her hands clasped over her abdomen, and I watched her sink off the chair.

Standing, I found myself shaking as I walked over to her, hand out to help. Instinctively, I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but I was the weapon this time, I didn't know that I could soothe her as well. "Don't touch me," she said. "Don't ever touch me again." I withdrew my hand to my chest, cradling it. I wanted nothing more than to hold her and soothe her and tell her it was alright. But, it wasn't all right. "Get out."

I didn't move. I was rooted to the spot. "Casey, what happened with your parents?" I whispered.

"I said get out, Cabot. Get the fuck out of my office right now. We'll deal with this case, then you can go be whomever the fuck it is you want to be somewhere else."

"Not until you tell me what happened." I stood there, halfway between the door and the desk, unsure of myself as I watched her huddle on the floor and cry knowing there was nothing I could do to ease her pain.

She remained curled on her knees, staring at the floor, her hair sticking to parts of her cheek where the tears had run their course for the better part of an hour, and I just stood there, dumb. "My mother passed away a week after you left," she finally whispered. "The last memory I have of her is when she called my child a bastard and told me I wasn't her daughter." That started the tears up again, and I barely understood what she said next through the sobs. "My dad died in December. His heart just stopped."

I fell to my knees beside her, wrapping her up against me. It didn't matter who she was at that point, the hurt had left her raw. She didn't protest when I pulled her into my lap, rocking her, my hands holding her head against my chest. "It's okay to cry, honey," I whispered, and she clung to me, her arms tight around my waist, crying.

I moved back to lean against her desk, and she lay out between my legs, one hand over my heart. There were wet patches on my shirt where the saline from her tears glued the fabric to my chest, but I didn't mind. I held her against me, and she traced stationary style hearts over the beat in my chest. "I was so alone. I know they may not have been supportive, but they were my parents. I knew one day that they would die, I just didn't think it would be so soon. After Mom died, I asked if I could go to Wisconsin, but I was told that because of the judge, your security had been compromised, that I couldn't."

"What judge?" I asked, combing my fingers through Casey's hair.

"Your uncle, Judge Hermann."

I stopped working the knots from her hair and looked down at her. "What about him?"

"They said they told you."

"The Marshals? I'm getting the feeling they say a lot of things that aren't necessarily reflections of the truth. What happened to my uncle?"

Casey tucked her head against me, making herself smaller. From that gesture alone, I knew it was nothing good. "He was murdered, Alex," she half whispered. "I heard about it on the news. The police think it has something to do with a case he was involved in and the Marshals wouldn't say more." I felt her move against me, but my eyes were fixed on the door as my mind raced a million miles a minute. My uncle and my grandmother had been the only two members of my family I could go to with girlfriend troubles, the only two who accepted me no matter what.

"How?"

"He was shot in his home, execution style. They think the murderer was waiting for him when he got home."

I shook my head in disbelief. That was my uncle. We were closer than I was with either of my parents, and I loved them dearly despite their political fixation. It took every ounce of self control I had not to hyperventilate. I felt as though I were genuinely constricting into myself. "When?"

"They found his body the Friday after you left, coroner thinks it happened late Wednesday."

"The same day I left New York." She nodded. "Did anyone try and hurt you? Or Temperance?"

"Not that I know of. The security in the office and the apartment may have prevented it." Casey sat up, scooting her knees forward until she was sitting between my legs, as close to me as she could get without laying on me. "Are you OK? I can't believe they wouldn't tell you. I thought that was why you weren't calling, that maybe the cartel found out you were alive, but days turned to weeks to months, and nothing." Her voice was quiet.

I held my phone out to her. "Dial my number," I murmured. "I think someone deliberately kept us apart." I had to not focus on Uncle Bill. I couldn't think about him.

She picked up her phone, dialing mine. She switched it onto speaker phone, and we both listened to her phone ring. My phone didn't do anything. Eventually, my real answering machine picked up. "Emily," Casey said, "call me."

She hung up. We waited in silence for almost fifteen minutes. No voicemail ever came through. Carefully, she dialed her number from my phone. "It says your number's been disconnected," I said.

Sure enough, the familiar tone pierced the air. "We're sorry," the automated system chimed, "the number you have dialed has been disconnected." The machine repeated itself before hanging up, disconnecting the call. I frowned at the machine, stuffing it in my pocket. My eyes flicked to Casey's, and I knew she was wearing the same puzzled expression I was.

"Why purposefully keep is apart and not tell us why? I mean, if it was for safety, why not just say?"

I reached out and touched her cheek. "Why did you kiss me if you thought I had left you?" I asked.

"Why did you kiss back if you thought the same?" she challenged.

"I felt it, that same thing I felt when you were in my house, when you got into the car. It was like a charge, only it didn't go away. It got stronger." Casey nodded in agreement. In that moment, I realized she had not only felt it, too, but she had probably longed for it. It made me wonder if she looked for it with others, or was I the only one with so little faith.

"Alex, what's going on?" Casey asked, dipping her head as she folded her hands in her lap. I could see her thinking, too, trying to decide how much to ask and when. I marvelled at the fact that despite our snapping match not so very long ago, she could still show me that vulnerable side of the woman I had missed for so long.

I shook my head, pressing my finger to my lips. "I don't know," I lied, standing up and pulling a pad and pen from her desk.

Talk later, I wrote, no phones.

She nodded, and I took the top three sheets of paper from the pad, tucking them into my back pocket. I could toss them later. Casey gave me a funny look and I shrugged. It was something I had learned from one of my cases. I might not have known exactly what was going on, but I had a pretty damn good idea, and it was that damn good idea that made me suspicious of the motives of those who were supposedly our allies.

I sat down in her desk chair and gestured for her to sit down with me. "Nothing about you has changed, has it?"

"I'm more cautious," I said as I pulled her on to my lap. I marveled at the way she fit me perfectly no matter how she pressed against me. Every movement just seemed right. She fit differently, better. She had put on weight which was good; it meant that she was healthy, that she was taking care of herself more like she ought to. "And more afraid. Casey?"

"Mm?" she hummed, twisting in my lap to look at me. She pressed one hand against the crook of my neck, and I couldn't help but think of how much I had missed those hands for the smallest or touches, the gestures she made when talking, the way her fingers brushed my lips when we whispered together in the dark. We wouldn't get it back right away, but it would come, in fits and phases. The way my heart raced every time she looked at me told me that as long as we both moved carefully, we could salvage this ship wreck.

"I really am sorry."

"Me, too, Alex. But, we can get through anything." I bit my lip, my eyes automatically darting down, giving me away. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't know," I said, my tone and my posture displaying every ounce of the dirty shame I felt. What would she think when I told her that I had believed she had left me and I tried to move on with my shattered heart, not with a woman, but with a man?

Casey pressed her finger to my lips, shaking her head. "Sh, Alex. Right now, I don't want to know. Whatever it is, you can tell me later. I won't let you argue with me on that one." She kissed me, her finger still between us. Carefully, slowly so she could protest if she wanted to, I moved her finger, lacing her hand in mine with one hand as I pulled her tighter against me with the other. For the first time in a long time, I opened my mouth not out of duty but because I genuinely wanted to taste every possible inch of the person I was kissing. Technically, I had more pressing issues to deal with between the Marshals, my uncle's death and what it meant, the Connors trial and what would happen after, and my daughter. But in that one space in time, Casey was the only thing I could focus on, and I knew if I stopped focusing on pouring my affection into her kiss, I would cry. It's true that you really don't know what you've got until it's gone.


	5. Chapter 5

_Those first few days after I had arrived had been filled with mixed emotions. I couldn't sleep for dual reasons. The first was that I hadn't realized how dependent I had become on having someone in my bed with me, and there was no way Casey and I were ready for that again. First of all, other than Olivia, no one knew about our former relationship, and even Olivia was mostly on the dark as far as the time frame went. We were going off the presumption that she didn't know I was alive all those months, and for appearances sake, we needed to keep that up at least through a conviction. After, whatever she told the squad would be up to her. We didn't spend a whole lot of non-professional time together, either, because despite the assholery by the agents on the case, we had a lot of work to do on ourselves as individuals before we could figure out our relationship. It didn't matter what happened at the trial. I was going away again after this. The cartel would know without a doubt I was alive, and they didn't like to leave witnesses alive._

_Those first few days, I spent more and more time awake to where even Olivia brought me a sleeping pill one night during her 'watch.' I appreciated that the detectives took turns being my body guards, but I kept trying to insist that they get some sleep in their beds and let the agents do their jobs. Secretly, I was grateful. Jim and Tony has both been by, but I didn't trust either of them any longer. They must have seen me regard them with suspicion, and I wondered if it was more than when Casey was kidnapped by Andy and Jesse that the feds listened in to my conversations. Had they heard me crying over Tee and Casey when I thought I had lost them? Had an agent listened in to Adam and I in the bedroom? That thought was enough to make me sick. It was bad enough I'd done it, but to have had an audience?_

_Fortunately, by that weekend, everything was together enough for the trial that I began to ease up a little on myself. It was also that Saturday which Olivia took the day shift with me specifically so Casey and I could talk. I hadn't been able to catch a moment alone with her since that afternoon in her office. Someone else was always around, and that meant we really hadn't been able to just talk. I wanted to know more about Temperance, about her last two years, about everything. I had been so cut off, and I had mistakenly blamed her. Two years later, I think we were both glad to find out how foolish we had been as opposed to how scorned._

Olivia opened the door to the hotel room, and from my vantage point in the living room, I jumped a good foot and a half. I had thought knowing what he looked like, that he was behind bars would make me feel safer, but it hadn't. Now, instead of everyone possibly being him, everyone was possibly another hitman come to off me before the trial. I was on edge, and it sucked.

"Hey jumpy," Olivia said as she held out a cup if Starbucks coffee to me. Oh, the joys of life I missed while being confined to the hotel room. I smiled, taking the cup and gesturing for her to sit down.

She did, but only after walking through the living room and the bedroom, double checking to make sure the thick curtains were pulled shut. "I already did that, Liv," I said. "I do it every half hour it seems. I don't have a lot else to fret over while I'm here other that how best to keep bullets out of my body."

"I know," Olivia said, "but, I'm just being careful." She paused as she sat on the chair opposite me. "Jim's picking Casey up."

I nodded, focusing on my coffee. It wouldn't entirely be time alone with Casey, but Olivia would be the one who was there instead of the other detectives in front of whom, neither of us felt comfortable talking too frankly, or the agents whom neither of us trusted.

"How are you doing?"

"It's been a long two years," I said, curling on the couch. "A lot has happened. I really was with a man in Wisconsin, and I don't know how Casey's gonna take that."

Olivia nodded. "I'm sure she'll understand, Alex," the detective said.

I sighed. "I hope so."

"Casey's a good woman. I think she will. And, I think she loves you more than you know. In fact, I have it on pretty good authority." Olivia smiled.

Returning her smile, I teased, "Do you now?"

"Mmhm."

A knock on the door interrupted us, and Olivia stood. We were both silent for a few heart beats until I heard the sound of the key card in the door. I saw Olivia automatically reach for her gun. Instinctively, I pulled away. "Don't shoot," Casey called, "it's me."

Relaxing her grip on the butt of her gun, Olivia strode forward and opened the door. "Hi, thanks." Casey squeezed in the door with several grocery bags in hand before she turned to the hallway. "Come on, you can bring it in here."

Curious and eager to help with Casey's full hands, I stood. I tried to take a bag from Casey, but she refused, stepping away from the doorway. Tall enough at barely two to pass for three, a little toddler waddled through the doorway, her brown hair up in pigtails, green eyes cautious as she looked around, a stuffed animal bear clutched tight in her hands. Her skin was a warm color the shade of hot chocolate, but other than that sharp contrast between her and her snow white mother and the brown hair, she was all Casey. My heart almost stopped.

"Casey," I breathed, my hand to my chest. I couldn't rip my eyes from the little girl. "Oh, my, God, she's beautiful. She looks so much like you."

Casey smiled, kicking the door closed behind Temperance. The girl, for her part, seemed transfixed by me. We were at a standstill as Olivia took the groceries from Casey and the redhead placed her hand on my back. "She's not gonna bite you, Alex," she whispered to me.

Carefully, I squatted down before my child. I knew very little about her other than what I had known those first three months and that she was struggling in her developmental mile stones for her age group. "Hi, beautiful girl," I said. "What's your name?"

Temperance looked over at me, her eyes studiously taking me in for several seconds while she hugged her bear tight. I recognized the stuffed toy as the bear that had been in the basket I had prepared for Casey while she was still pregnant. It had survived two years of wear, and it was kind of obvious. "Is that your teddy?"

She squeezed the bear closer, twisting so that it was further from me. Then, after a few seconds, she seemed to change her mind and held the bear out to me. Carefully, I took him from her and hug him against me, patting his back. "Hi, teddy bear."

With a smile, I returned the bear to my daughter, and she eyed the bear with suspicion. Oh, yes, she was all Casey. Which meant that somewhere in that, she had inherited Casey's need for physical comfort, too. It took her only a few seconds to decide that she wanted a hug as well, and I wrapped her in my arms, standing as I held her against me. "Hi, Temperance."

As I held her against me, I could feel hot tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I kissed her forehead as she leaned back, more or less sitting in my arms, her legs wrapped around me as far as they would go. "Mommy," she said, looking at Casey. "Dis Momma."

She patted my chest a couple of times for emphasis, and my heart just about melted. She pointed to the detective who was leaning against the wall. "Aunie If." She patted me again. "Dis Momma." She appeared to be telling Olivia who I was.

I was trembling as I cried, watching her as she tipped her head. I felt Casey put her arm around my waist, the familiar feel of her head on my shoulder. "It's okay, Alex," she murmured.

It surprised me how quickly and easily Temperance had recognized me, though I was sure Casey had something to do with that on the car ride over. All the same, her fearlessness in approaching me was touching. It was like she had known me her whole life even though I hadn't thought I would ever get to see her. I recalled Casey telling me that she had consistently just hoped and prayed word would come from me about Temperance. She had been so disappointed to find that it never had, and I understood that completely. She hadn't known I was trying, but she had kept up faith. That made her a better person than me.

"Hey, Tem, you wanna draw with Momma? Make her pretty pictures?"

"Ya," the baby said, wiggling in my arms. I was loathe to put her down. I hadn't believed I would ever have the opportunity to see her again, and now that I had, I couldn't imagine a world without her again. Reluctantly, I set her down as Casey pulled over-sized crayons from a bag I hadn't noticed she had been carrying.

Casey handed me the box and a coloring book and pushed me over to the coffee table where Tee was already pulling pillows from the couch to sit on. "Go on, Bambi," she said. "Color with her."

My legs were shaking so badly that I deserved the temporary nickname. "Casey," I murmured, my fingers closing around the box. "She's so -"

"I know," Casey murmured, stroking my hair. "Go on."

At first, she sat beside me and colored in her animal coloring book. As she chose new pages to scribble on, we named everything on the page. Occasionally, she would look at me when I named something , her mouth moving as though she were debating how and whether or not to repeat me. Sometimes she would out right repeat me, though she didn't label anything herself.

I looked to Casey as I asked her to find the rabbit I had just pointed to, and she hasn't responded. Casey gave me a tight lipped smile that told me that was normal for her. "Tem, what's this?" I asked, pointing to the rabbit, tapping it with my finger.

She mimicked my motion. "Dis," she said.

"Mmhm. Is it a rabbit?" Her brow furrowed, and she looked at me as if I was the one not able to name it. I laughed. "It is! It's a rabbit." I clapped my hands and giggled. Temperance continued to stare at me, blank faced. It was like she wasn't entirely home.

I glanced up as Olivia leaned over the table, snapping her fingers before the toddler's face. "Honey, you in there?" The baby startled and stared at Olivia, and I watched as she gave her aunt the same studious look she had given me. Then, as though nothing had happened, she picked up her crayon and began scribbling on the page.

Biting my lip, I looked for Casey, meeting her eyes across the room. The pain in her face was obvious, and I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault because I knew she was blaming herself over that quirk, particularly because it had been identified as a possible developmental problem. Casey shook her head and turned from me, resuming her self assigned duty of putting the microwave meals in the mini fridge the hotel provided me with.

Olivia sat down across the coffee table from me. "Three years," Olivia whispered.

"I'm sorry?" I answered, my voice low as well.

"Three years, four months, that's how long you've been gone. Not two years."

I gave her a wide eyed stare before blinking slowly. I had botched that one up. Licking my lips, I shrugged. "I must have misspoken." I kept my voice at a whisper as well.

"Bull shit," Olivia said, calling me out. I pursed my lips, my gaze darting to Casey's back and then back to Olivia. "Alex, you don't forget how many seconds it's been since the last time you saw someone you love, let alone forget an entire year."

I closed my eyes, my hand resting on Tee's back as she colored. "Twenty three months and twelve days," I whispered. "Do you want to know how many hours?"

Olivia touched my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. She was giving me that look she wore when everything sort of fell into place with her. "Your secret's safe," she murmured. "I just want to see Connors go down. You shouldn't have to not know when you can see your daughter again. You deserve to be safe and happy."

I smiled, taking her hand in mine as she moved it from my shoulder. "I missed you, too."

"Yea, well, I am kind of fantastic." She smiled, and I laughed, her words having their intended effect. Tee didn't need to see me cry. I needed to start building a positive relationship with her. Maybe after this, I wouldn't be able to sneak around New York, but there was no reason we couldn't take family vacations to other cities, meeting somewhere outside of the city. It would not quite be the same, but it would be better than it was. It was better than thinking I had done something wrong.

I licked my lips again, this time out of a different type of nervous. "Liv, will you stay out here with Tee? I think the sooner I talk to Casey, the better." I ran my fingers through Temperance's pigtails, not wanting to leave her for even a second. Olivia nodded.

Standing, I wrung my hands, quickly smoothing out my jeans as Casey turned. I offered her a brief smile. "Case? I - can we talk?"

It was panic I saw flash over her face before she resorted to something more business-like. My heart twisted painfully to see her eyes dart to Temperance before flashing back to me as though I might disapprove of her parenting skills or something - which, I did not. Of everything I had seen of Tee and Casey's, Casey was an amazing mother. "Yea, sure," she said slowly as she stepped forward, following me into the bedroom.

I debated with myself whether or not to touch her to reassure her. I personally didn't think that it would be reassuring after I told her what I had done. Then again, I was probably making a bigger deal out of it than she was. She slept with more men than I had fingers and toes in the two months following our initial affair in Santa Fe. Surely, if anyone would understand the sense of finality and not being able to have, she would. It wasn't as though I knew. I genuinely had thought that she walked away from me. And, it had taken me eleven months to actually date the man, and another seven months to sleep with him. Mentally, I shuddered. I knew I had done it so that I wouldn't be alone, but damn it if it didn't make me feel more alone than ever. But, the thought of ever being with another woman was just so much more intimately betraying of my own wants and needs that I couldn't do it. Twisted as it was, I was okay with Adam because I wasn't getting any kind of sexual gratification from it.

I let Casey sit on the bed while I curled in a chair. Her brow furrowed, and she patted the bed beside her. "Unless it's that kind of a talk, Alex," she murmured.

I shook my head. "I'm not so sure it won't turn into that, but not coming from my end." I saw Casey tense. She had been the one to ask if there were anything that she could do to make me stop loving her all those moons ago. I told her that there was nothing, no scenario I could come up with; even me thinking her leaving me without explanation seemed to have no I'll effect on my feelings towards her. But, the other way around, I did not know.

I watched her steel herself against whatever it was that I was going to say, and when she looked about as ready as humanly possible, I licked my lips. "I slept with a man, Casey," I said. "I thought you had left. I got my card returned unopened, and by the end of the year, still nothing. I had no idea we were being played."

For several seconds, I heard the blood rushing through my body, my heart racing like a greyhound. I could barely breathe. "Define slept with," Casey said, her words slow and deliberate.

"We dated." I felt myself flush as I bit my lip.

"So, you slept with him every night, had plans for the future?"

I visibly gagged. "We dated. We kissed when I couldn't get out of it. We fucked when I ran out of excuses. I think he would have proposed to me. Well, to Emily. He liked Emily."

Casey was still looking at me as though I had grown a second head. She looked so convinced that I had that I had the urge to check and make sure I hadn't. "So, Emily was straight?"

I shook my head. "No, but in order to blend in in that town, I needed to be. I had rocked the boat more than I thought by telling my boss my partner was a woman. It took almost a year and me dating Adam to convince them that I was alright."

"So, when did this, um, love affair start?"

"November the year I left."

"You sure you're not bisexual or something?" She tipped her head.

I shivered, wrapping my arms about myself. "I am very sure I'm not bisexual. Casey, we. I cried every time, but I was scared. I didn't want to be alone."

"Why with a man?" She put her fingers to her forehead as though it simply was not processing. I thought it was a good thing she was focused on what it meant for my sexuality as opposed to my love for her. If she hadn't gone straight to my future fidelity, then we were on a better note than I hoped.

"The thought of ever kissing anyone but you makes me ill. Kissing another woman would break me."

She nodded slowly. "You lied to him, Alex. You made him think you could love him."

Of course, a Catholic woman would be the queen of guilt. I dropped my chin to my chest, sucking my lower lip into my mouth. Like I hadn't beat myself up over it the entire time I was with him. But, he had been content. As far as I could tell, he hadn't known. "I know. But, if I hadn't come here to testify and learned that you still want me around, and he had proposed, I would have said yes. I would have been a dutiful wife when I could be."

"You are such a Catholic," she chided. "Dutiful wife my ass. You're telling me he had no idea you weren't enjoying yourself?"

It was my turn to furrow my brow. "What?" I blinked and sat back, letting my legs drop to the floor. "You're telling me they notice? Of all of the things men never notice, they notice whether or not women are enjoying themselves?"

Casey laughed. "Oh, God. You'd never survive straight. If they care about you, Alex, they notice."

I flushed. "I'm an asshole."

"Yea," Casey agreed. "You are. You said you stayed with him because you thought I had left you and that you didn't want to kiss another woman - nice, cute save, by the way." I nodded, blushing. "So, I have nothing to worry about with you knowing that I didn't leave you, and even when you disappear after this trial, I'll still have nothing to worry about?"

I slunk out of the chair and over to the bed, crawling beside her, laying my head against her shoulder. I laced my hands in hers, pulling her fingers to my lips. "You have nothing to worry about, sweetie, because even then, I would close my eyes and wish I were back here with you. But, mostly because I will never, ever let a man touch me like that again." I pulled a face.

Casey laughed, twisting in my arms. "That face," she murmured, "is all I need to know you'll never leave me." She kissed me chastely. "And, Alex, thanks for telling me."

"You deserve to know. I've kept too many damn secrets."

"I thought you'd never notice." She pressed her hand to my cheek, her forehead to mine, and smiled.

I nipped her lower lip, and she giggled, pulling away. I nipped again with the same result, so I nipped just a little harder, and she jerked back so quickly she fell backwards onto the bed laughing. Laying down beside her, I smiled, my arm resting across her abdomen. "The most beautiful woman in the world is my lover, and I'm lucky enough to also call her the mother of my child."

"Not true," Casey said with a wide grin.

"Oh?"

"Because the most beautiful woman in the world is my lover, and I'm the one who is lucky enough to call her the mother of my child."

I laughed. "Speaking of child," I purred. "There's someone I want to spend the day with out in the living room."

"Who? Olivia?" Casey questioned, playful grin spread out over her face. I leaned down and licked her, jaw to ear, before scrambling off the bed and taking off out of the bedroom into the living room.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Thanks for sticking with me and waiting patiently. And, thanks for the reads and the reviews. :)**

Olivia was quick to her feet as I tore out of the bedroom. It barely processed as she moved her hand to the gun on her hip, and I did some quick talking to reassure her that someone hadn't burst into the bedroom window. "I licked Casey," I said, laughing as I skidded around the couch and crouched by the chair near Temperance. The toddler met my eyes, hers wide and confused. I laughed, ruffling her hair. "Momma's in trouble, baby, that's what's happening. You'll get used to it. It's okay." I kissed her on the top of her head.

She gave me a look as if to say 'oh' or, maybe 'what's new?' As she nodded, I pressed my finger to my lips. Poor baby looked at me and then at Olivia like she really just didn't know what to think. The detective looked down at both of us and shrugged, sitting on the chair. She folded her arms over her knee, seeming to prepare to watch whatever it was that was going to happen next. It occurred to me that we'd had fun, been girls, gone out and drank, there was one time she convinced me to go rock climbing. But, she had never seen me play. I really wasn't the type of girl to go out and play, but Casey just brought it out in me. It was easy to play around her. Maybe it was the whole love thing. Maybe it was just her, but with how harsh our reputations were at work, it seemed unusual, and probably amusing.

The bedroom door opened, and I looked up. "You licked me. You little witch. I can't believe you licked me." Casey was rubbing her cheek with her sleeve as she walked out of the bedroom, her eyes landing on me beside Tee. I flashed her a cheeky grin. She narrowed her eyes, lips pursed. I wondered how often in the past two years she had played as well, and I meant more than just played with Temperance.

"Really?" I asked, feigning that I was surprised. "Because, by now, I would have just thought it was a given that I was going to lick you." Olivia snickered, turning her face away from us. I beamed. Casey turned tomato red. "I mean, because really hi, di -"

I had forgotten Casey has started exercising again, but I learned pretty quickly when she jumped over the back of the couch toward me. I had been in the middle of pantomiming introducing myself, and her quick movement caught me off guard. I crawled backwards, laughing. "Temperance, distract Mommy," I said as I stood up, fleeing toward the counter not even ten feet from where I was. The hotel room wasn't big enough to chase, and I would normally have run outside. In this instance, running outside could be detrimental to my testimony.

The baby toddled after me in that clumsy way toddlers had, and I crouched down to reach for her. Playfully, Casey wrapped her arm around the girl and pulled her back. "No," I cried, stretching further. "It's a trap, Tee! Don't let Mommy get you!" Dramatic, I fell to the floor on my hands and knees, walking out to my stomach, Casey keeping Temperance just out of my reach. I could hear Olivia laughing from the couch, but in my drama, I didn't look up, collapsing on the floor with a loud groan.

The baby reached for me, giggling. "Again, again," she cried as I sighed loudly, my hands covering my head. I kicked my feet in the air behind me being as dramatic as possible. Dropping my legs, I went as perfectly still as I could, even inhaling as little as possible.

"Momma?" Temperance cooed. "Momma?" She sounded genuinely concerned which was incredibly touching. It was also adorable because she sounded just like Casey when she whined. I dropped my hands to the floor, my nails clicking along the false tile. Popping my head up, I smiled, and she did, too, apparently relieved that I was okay and smiling.

Casey gave me a Cheshire grin. Her eyes danced with mischief, and I knew enough to be worried. Narrowing my eyes, I watched both of my girls, trying to figure out exactly what Casey had planned. I had a pretty good idea, and my hypothesis was rewarded with confirmation when Casey spoke. "Hey, Tem, go lick Momma."

"Tay," the baby answered, crawling towards me with a little look of determination that almost made me laugh. Grinning, I tucked my face so that she didn't lick my face, covering my head with my arms again.

"Eee," I squealed as she licked my arm. Twisting, I pulled her against me, rolling over using my body as a pillow between her and a tumble over the hard floor. "Oh, ya? You think you can lick Momma and get away with it? I show you." I laid her on the ground beneath me and kissed her forehead, cheeks, stomach, arms, and legs. Every wiggly part of the baby, I kissed. "Think you can lick me and get away with it. Got another thing coming," I muttered between kisses. "Doncha? Hm. Hm. Hm."

Tee giggled and squealed, wiggling beneath me. "Top it," she squealed, and I sat back on my knees. "Omma."

"Yep. I'm your Momma." I leaned over and kissed her nose. "And, I love you very, very much." Looking up, I caught Casey watching me, her eyes glittering with what I would swear were tears. "And, I love you very, very much. Casey, you're not in this alone, not any more. You're not a single mom. I've got your back, maybe not how I want or how you both deserve, but to the best of my ability."

She smiled, flushing. "I love you," she whispered. "I always will." Leaning over Tee, I kissed Casey, soft and quick, trying to be respectful of the other woman in the room. She had been sweet to just let us play. I hadn't played with Casey in two years, just been silly. I had missed it, and I had known that I missed it. What I hadn't realized was how happy it made me to be around her. Yes, it made me happy. I knew it had always made me happy. But, the amount of unhappy I had been holding on to over the past two years was more than I had realized. For a fleeting moment, I thought of Adam. He must have known. He would have been stupid to not have noticed. I was stupid to have not noticed. Maybe he was better off without me in Wisconsin just like I was better off in New York with Casey. The last time I had played chase with her had been in Ireland near the end of 2003 beginning with once cubes down either her shirt or mine. I couldn't remember which, only the fact that we had both laughed so hard that even later that evening we still had the giggles. Maybe I would have to leave, but at least this time I knew she still wanted me to fight for her.

"Ew, get a room," Olivia teased. I looked over at her, and she rolled her eyes at me, but the smile she flashed was so completely one of her 'whatever' smiles that I knew she was mostly unphased. The detective had to be one of the singularly most accepting persons in the world. As long as it didn't hurt someone, it was like she didn't mind that it happened. For that, I was grateful. Even without my grandmother and my uncle, I thought I had family that accepted me for who I was, whenever I was. Between a wonderful wife and an amazing friend who was almost a sister, I had it all. Olivia hadn't been incredibly mad that I hadn't talked to her even though I had talked to Casey. I think she had been more hurt than anything else, but I explained myself that I was too scared. I was too scared of the memories. It was impossible not to be. She was still hurt, but I think that she understood. Casey wasn't attached to my memories of being shot. I hadn't told Olivia, but I remembered her hands on my skin, trying to keep the blood inside. I remembered her screaming. I remembered her in the back of the ambulance telling me not to go anywhere. It was her voice that kept me conscious, and that scared me. That scared me more than being shot. I had never let someone through my walls before her. She was my best friend. How did I even begin to process what had happened?

"Well, maybe we will," I said, grinning awkwardly. Casey smacked my arm lightly. "Hey."

Standing, I plopped my baby on my hip and looked at her. "Did Mommy give you dinner yet?" I asked, checking the time on the wall clock. It was gone seven, and I was starting to get hungry even though I hadn't been able to eat much the previous few days. In part, I thought it was the fact that the stress I was feeling had been drastically reduced by what I considered truly the most beautiful smile in the world. Casey had competition in the form of a two year old girl that had kidnapped part of my heart from my lover.

Casey shook her head, staring at the ground. "I tried to get her to eat some chicken, but she didn't want it." She refused to meet my eyes, and I bit my lip. "Normally, she eats around four. I don't know-" She wrapped her arms around herself, her nails digging into her shirt. I wrapped my hand around one of hers, adjusting Temperance on my hip. "Sorry."

The dejection in her voice more than anything was what had made me pause. Yea, she still had a long way to go. "It's okay. Sometimes kids just aren't hungry. You have nothing to be sorry for. Are you worried you're not a good mom?" When she wouldn't look up at me, I looked to Olivia. The expression the detective wore told me that it was something Casey and she had gone around about several times.

Nodding, Casey turned away from me. I pulled her hand to me, stepping close. "Honey, I know that we have a lot of shit we have to work through as a family, but whether or not you're a capable parent has never been one of them. You're an amazing mother, and even though I haven't seen you in a couple of years, I know this to be a fact. Temperance is happy and healthy. You love her. And, there is no one else in this world that I would want to raise our daughter. I trust you completely with every aspect of raising her, Casey, and I know you are stuck with the primary responsibility of raising her, and I'm so sorry. That's a shortcoming on me, though, not on you. You're amazing, nothing less. Do you understand me?"

I curled my fingers around her cheek, and she pressed herself into me. "Casey, say it."

"I'm a good mom," she whispered, but she didn't sound convinced. I knew she wanted to do more, be more, be better. What true parent didn't? But, her being so hard on herself over it wasn't fair for her. That put too much stress on her, and I felt badly that it worked out that way. It made me wish I had questioned more, demanded more after Temperance was born in being able to see the little girl, to know that Casey hadn't left, to let her know that I hadn't left her. What had it done to her self esteem for her to think I was gone without answers? Had she really believed it had been for safety? Or, had she been trying to lie to herself to protect herself from what she, subconsciously, had believed to be the truth? It didn't matter that neither was right, only that she had believed them. That was all it took, and I saw the fragile red head that I had met in Santa Fe. She was still there, hidden beneath layers of everything she had covered herself with, and I couldn't tell if she had been healing or if she had put on a lot of makeup.

Bringing her hands to my lips, I kissed the back of her fingers. "You are," I said. "You're the one who had little brothers and have been this fantastic mother to Temperance. Me? My extent with children is, well, nil."

Casey smiled. "Then, you're a natural." I was just happy to see her smile. Casey nodded, her eyes darting over to Olivia. So, we weren't perfect. This wasn't the family any kid dreamed of having when they thought about their futures, but it was a family. And, there was honest love and affection. As far as that was concerned, it was precisely what I imagined when I was a child.

I walked over to the mini fridge Casey had just loaded with microwave meals, grabbed two and held them out in front of the baby, setting her down so I could squat by her. "Tee-tee, you want this one or this one?"

Putting a finger to her mouth just like Casey did, Temperance examined each box. "Ish," she finally said, pointing to the plain spaghetti.

"Alright. This one it is." I stood, popping the lid off so the food would be able to vent.

"Wow, Cabot, you're, um, domesticated," Olivia said behind me as I closed the microwave door and pushed start.

I shrugged, glancing at Casey who was staring at me like I had done the unbelievable. I pointed at her. "I don't have a stove, leave me alone." Winking at Casey, I then looked at the detective. "And, it takes a special kind of woman to domesticate me."

"I know," Olivia mused, tilting her head as she looked at me. My parents had not wanted to hear about my girlfriend drama, so whenever something major was bothering me about my relationships, it had been to Olivia I had ranted, at least, it was for about six months before my death which meant that she got to hear me unload more about previous relationships since, at the time, I had been single. But, she had been the first person I had felt comfortable talking too.

And, if she held it on good authority that Casey loved me more than I knew, then I was guessing that Casey had found a confidant in her, too. For that, I was grateful, and I made mental note to say thank you before this was all over. It meant a lot to me that I knew Casey had someone to talk to if she needed it. And, now that Olivia was in on our little secret, Casey could hopefully feel more at ease with her. It would be good for Casey, and I knew that if anyone could be understanding without displaying pity, Olivia could, and that seemed to go a long way with Casey. I was beginning to notice that even for all the progress she had made, she still had a long way to go. I could hear it in her voice, particularly when she talked about the baby. The detective was no small blessing.

"Casey, did we actually have trial prep?" It had been what she had told the Marshals she needed to do. Other than in front of Olivia, we remained largely professional in front of the agents and other detectives. For one, Casey wasn't exactly out to anyone else, and I wasn't going to force her hand. For another, I wasn't out to anyone but Olivia, and that was because Casey had let it slip. I didn't mind though. I think I just assumed Olivia knew I was a lesbian.

Casey shook her head. "Purely a social visit," she said. I nodded, smiling. "I think you're good to go, but we'll run through everything the day before you testify just to keep everything fresh. Until then, everything seems to be going alright, all things considered. The trial's slated for two weeks. I'm hoping it only takes one. Not that I don't want you here for two weeks, but it'll be nice to know he's behind bars permanently."

"You're telling me," I said, scoffing. I would be so grateful knowing he was behind bars on a more permanent basis. That didn't make me safe. Zapata could always hire someone else, and he probably would if not to come after me, then to go after Casey. It was the latter that terrified me straight down to my bones. Not only was Casey at risk, but Tee. I wouldn't admit it to anyone because saying it would make it worse, and I was pretty sure I wasn't the only one looking at the case in that manner. In fact, from Olivia's looks, I knew at least she was thinking the same. Stabler and Tutuola seemed to think that, too. I would have to confirm before I left again, let them know to keep an eye on my family when I couldn't. If I trusted anyone to protect them, it was Special Victims.

We settled down on the couch, Temperance in my lap while I fed her luke warm pasta from a spoon. Keeping pasta on a spoon was never something I had to do, and it almost goes without saying that it was minutes before I was wearing half of the noodles and Casey and Olivia were snickering at me while the baby clapped her hands like it was some game for Mommy and Auntie Liv. I peeled a noodle from my collar bone, more than just a little grossed out at how quickly it had become cold against my skin. Looking at Casey, I growled. "Thanks for the warning," I said, flinging the noodle at her with a flick of my wrist.

The noddle landed on her arm, and Olivia burst out laughing, earning her a dark glare from Casey. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"Oh no, as a policy, I don't get involved in domestics, particularly when I know both parties." Olivia shook her head, smile still on her lips.

"So neh," I teased.

Casey nodded. "Mmhm," she said, picking up the noodle and tossing it in the trash bin nearby. "Count one assault with a wet noodle, defendant Alexandra Cabot, bail? Remand, your honor. Cabot's clearly a flight risk."

"Your honor, for a first offense, that seems a little excessive. My client, er, myself, I am very clearly monitored by law enforcement, able to be found by federal agents at any given time of day or night. I think Miss Novak exaggerates when she argues remand. There is no way for me to flee. I would think that 500 dollars is sufficient to guarantee return."

Casey's mouth opened as she looked at me. Pouting, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not exaggerate."

I laughed. "Oh, whatever. You're a criminal attorney. That's the definition of your job."

"You would know," she retorted.

I slid Temperance off my lap and onto the couch, setting the pasta on the coffee table. Casey eyed me, the door to the hallway, and the door to the bedroom. Olivia was watching her, too, and I jumped up a split second before Casey took off to the bedroom. She tried to get the door closed, but I slipped in before, my hands on her shoulders as I dropped her back onto the bed, my knees sliding onto either side of her hips. Catching her left hand in mine, I rubbed my thumb at the skin between her thumb and her index finger, and I heard her gasp. As her mouth opened, I kissed her, her arms looping around my neck as she moaned into my mouth.

"Right," Olivia said from the door way, and I tore off Casey like a whipped child.

The red head sat up, elbows balancing herself on the bed. "Good job, Olivia. I haven't had so much as a grown up kiss in two years, and you interrupt it."

"You two have been shoving your tongues down each other's throats on and off for a week, Casey. Don't even lie to me."

Casey bit her lip. I clasped my hands behind my back, lower lip tucked in my mouth as Olivia looked between me and Casey, her eyes doing the darting thing they sometimes did when potential co-defendants started going at each other. She was trying to read both of us at the same time, and succeeding well if her bug-wide eyes were any indication. "That was so not the only place she was touching."

Olivia put her hands over her ears. "La la la la la," she said, dancing out of the room, closing the door behind her. "Don't worry, I'll babysit. Just, um, I really don't want- If you're going to be, um, noisy, just don't be, um, noisy. Kay?"

I laughed, laying on the bed beside Casey. "I never imagined Olivia to be the kind to stumble over sex terms," I teased.

"Beyond rape and molestation, I think she, uh, doesn't see much action."

"Seems like it's going around the unit." Casey smacked my stomach. I laughed. "What? You telling me Munch found a lady friend in my absence?"

She snickered. "Yea, um, I don't think so." She leaned over me and kissed my cheek. "Let's go watch a movie. I think we've embarrassed Olivia enough for the night."

"And ourselves."

"And ourselves," she agreed, kissing me softly. "Nothing like the fact that I still have to work with her tomorrow."

She stood up, and, right before she opened the door, I yelped. "God, Casey, yes," I moaned, loud enough that I knew Olivia would hear it.

"Bitch," Casey muttered, opening the door, her entire face, neck, and arms bright, bright red. I cackled, my eyes tearing up, I was laughing so hard.


	7. Chapter 7

_My testimony ended up bumped back a day because of midtrial motions, a notion almost unheard of in the regular case load sex crimes held except for the defense to motion either a mistrial or that prosecution had not made their case. Defense in this instance made a particularly peculiar request in that he asked for discovery two days into the jury trial which put the trial back by a day to give discovery the opportunity to find anything else. Our office, well, Casey's office, determined that there was nothing not given to defense that Casey had documented or the police had documented. Which meant that the only things were things not discovered. I knew Casey played fast with the law, I hoped she didn't play loose. It was one thing to be able to recover from legal play, another entirely for being disbarred for with holding. _

_In all truth, it was an interesting tactic on the part of defense. Looking at it, I could see how, with any other judge, it might raise suspicions. But, this judge trusted me implicitly, and if I knew of something, I would be pushing for it to be discovered. As it was, if Casey were keeping secrets, she was keeping them from even me. Which made me think she wasn't keeping secrets. There may come a day when Casey and I did not see eye to eye on a case, but over procedure? Everyone abides procedure. Right?_

_Cornering Connors while I was on the stand actually turned out to not be as difficult as Casey and I were thinking it would be. He may not have precisely said the words, but he practically admitted to being hired to kill me. The judge overruled the motion for a mistrial, and I had a private victory dance in my head even as panic spread through my veins. _

"I want to say good bye to my family," I protested as one of the Marshals led me to a car parked out back of the court room. I had been dismissed from the stand, and they wanted to move immediately on me to get me out of New York. Apparently, Connor's outburst that I should have stayed dead and they would come after me again had them all on edge.

"It's not safe, Alexandra," the man at my left said as he opened the door. "Agent Hammond will send your love."

I snarled at the sarcasm in his voice. "Don't even start with me, Marshal." If I had known his name, I would not have given him the respect of addressing him by title. As far as I was concerned, he did not deserve half of that. Then again, he had been sarcastic to me the three previous times I had encountered him as well. I wasn't particularly fond of him in general.

"Look, Alex," the other one tried. "It's too dangerous for your daughter. The sooner we get you out of here, the better."

"I want to talk to Agent Hammond before I leave. You said he would give my family my love, well, like it or not, that whole unit is my family. They're going to be more worried that I don't show up than they would be if I showed up for only a few seconds before you whisk me off somewhere new."

"Alright," the sensible one said, conceding to my requests.

"Now, here, before we leave. I know how you guys work. You'll get me in that car, and I won't see or hear from them ever again. I spent the last two years not being able to hear my daughter's first words or see her first steps, not because the stipulations of Witness Protection prevented me but because agents deliberately prevented otherwise safe communication, communication which we had been exercising up to that point. You want my testimony in the federal cases against Velez and Zapata, you will do that. Otherwise, you lose my testimony, and I stay in New York."

"You would be subpoenaed."

"I've spent time in jail under contempt charges before. Do not underestimate how stubborn I can be, Marshal. You have no idea."

"Stop throwing a temper tantrum. You really can't be stupid enough put everyone's life on danger just because you want something? Is what you want really more important than keeping the barrel of a gun from your daughter's cheek?"

Put like that, no, never. I would take another bullet before I let anyone near my kid, or my wife. That was nonnegotiable. With a groan, I slid into the back seat of the car and held my hand out. "Fine, then at least let me call Jack."

One of the marshals dialed the number, handing me his cell. "Hey, it's Cabot."

"Alex, what time should I pick you up? They detectives want to have a celebration tonight, win or lose."

"Oh, we're winning, but the marshals are making me go now before heat stirs worse. Can you give everyone my love? Let Casey know, too, I'll be in contact as soon as possible."

"Sure thing, Alex. Be safe. I'll drop in once they have you settled."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." And, I did. I did not like the Marshal Service, but I still had some faith in Jack. We went back as part of SVU, not because I was some high profile witness. It gave me a little more faith in him than the time stealing marshals.

Hanging up, I handed the phone back to the man in the passenger seat. "Thanks. Um, so, where am I being relocated?" I asked.

In response, the man handed me a binder. "Seattle, Washington. Your new name will be Suzanne Coleman." The way he said it made me bristle. It was so easy for him to say. I stared out the window at my New York until we arrived at the airport and I was handed my brand new driver's license. Suzanne Coleman of Washington state. I could feel the hot tears budding already behind my eyes.

_Suzanne Coleman was an administrative assistant type of person with a background in office management from when she lived in L.A. Reading over the binder on the plane ride over made me think of the kind of woman who never rises above her station purely because she didn't desire it. Suzanne, I figured, liked to be the secretary._

_Another average woman, this time from a Baltimore family, Suzanne moved to California for college, attended the University of Southern California but dropped out before completing her degree. At least I could have fun there. Single, never married, no kids. Boring lady. Boring life. Boring meant safe. My life had never been boring._

_It didn't take too long to settle in as much as I could. I had a one bedroom apartment near the harbor which was a blessing in some ways. It reminded me of New York some days, though exactly how, I couldn't pinpoint. I worked part time as an executive assistant for some big accounting firm, pulling twenty hours a week. My pay was sufficient and my bills almost nil, so it worked for me. I hoped to not have to stay long, anyway._

_Shortly after relocating, Casey sent me a scrapbook through the Marshals Service of Tee's first two years. She sent over DVDs, too, that had been made of her just being a kid. I cried like a baby when I watched them. There were times when I caught myself touching the screen of my little television set, my fingers over Temperance's waving hand or touching Casey._

_I spent a lot of time in the local library just down the street from me, so much so that they offered me a position shelving books. More hours, less pay, and I jumped at the opportunity because I hated being an admin assistant. I went from making over twenty dollars an hour to making eleven, but the work made me temporarily displace the pain it cost me in being so far from family. I quickly became their legal go to even though I had to disclaim that I was not an attorney. Still, I pulled civil forms for little old ladies, helped defendants look up the statutes they were charged with as well as direct them to cheap or pro bono counsel when they didn't qualify for a public defender. It took everything I had to be impartial with some of them, but for the most part, I had rarely ever considered criminals totally evil people. There were some that were pure evil, but not all of them._

_To be truthful, my uncle had hoped I would eventually take appointment as a judge. My father wanted me to be a politician if I had to go into the public sector. But then, I knew a lot about how criminals were not always completely evil people. I had personal experience with that from when I was young. No one's hands are entirely clean._

_My next door neighbor was a single father with two kids, both boys. His wife had died a year prior, and the brothers would meet me at the library after school and follow me around, their arms full of books until three thirty when they would abandon being my helpers and go do homework. I never figured out why they liked me, but their father and I would talk a lot, juggling groceries in the hall._

_He was an IT guru for some private company I had never heard of, but he really knew what he was doing. He called me Suzy no matter how often I told him to call me Suzanne. He didn't mean it disrespectfully, but it was his irksome trait._

Blake, the six year old, clung to my leg as I picked books out of the shelves for customers who reserved their books online. For them, there was an area where we would set their books aside to be picked up, organized by the customer's name. Of was like having a personal grocery shopper, p my with books. "Blakey, honey, you have to let go of my leg."

"Please, Miss Suzy. Kaleb and I really wanna go get ice cream with Daddy, and we want you to come. They have bubble gum. All girls love bubble gum ice cream."

I massaged my temples. "Alright. If Daddy says it's okay, I'll come. But, you and Kaleb both have to have your school work done and done right, or I'm not coming." His hands unclasped from my leg, and he stood up, racing over to his brother's table to tell him the good news. Kaleb was nine and much more reserved than Blake. But, Kaleb had also been in the car when he and his mother were hit by a DUI driver and she was killed. I felt genuinely bad for the kid, both of them.

It made me wonder of three months later whether or not Temperance remembered me. I had not seen her much while I was in the city, and the Marshals were on a silence is better kick which meant my communication with Casey was limited to letters, and one phone call back in March. Our numbers were still blocked, and I had the dark feeling that it went beyond my safety from the cartel, but I couldn't afford to point fingers, even with ample evidence.

Casey sent me pictures of them both, one a week of them both posing, and more of Temperance and the squad. It made me sad that I couldn't display them in my apartment, but I kept them under lock and key. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but at least they were all safe and happy. Every day, I asked to be able to see Casey and Tee, even to just Skype, and every day, I was told that it wasn't safe.

Holding the books to my chest, I sighed, fingering the hollow pendant around my neck. I wondered often if she would still marry me. There had yet been a decent time to bring the subject to head, and it made me question whether or not we would ever catch a break. Or, were we destined to be star crossed for this lifetime?

I watched the boys work wondering if Casey would want more kids or if she were done with one. I didn't care either way, but it made me wonder. Taking my daughter to school every morning before going to work was kind of one of my dreams. At this rate, it seemed and increasingly unlikely event, and that made me want to cry more than just a little.

"Suzanne, are you okay?" A coworker asked, stepping in front of me. Her eyes darted back and forth between me and the kids. "They your boys?"

I shook my head. "My neighbor's. They come do homework here because they like to help me."

"Good kids."

"Yea, they are."

"Do you have any of your own?"

I nodded without thinking. "Um, sort of. I couldn't be a mom where I was then."

"Sweetie, I'm sorry. She's in good hands, though right?"

"She's in amazing hands. I just miss her."

The older woman nodded, her hand on my arm. "It'll be okay. Do you need to go get some fresh air?"

Swallowing, I nodded. She took the books from me, and I ducked out of the library, able to keep an eye on Blake and Kaleb through the window. I sucked down the warm Seattle spring air. It was May, and certain parts of the city were beautiful already.

I wandered around to the back of the library where it joined with an alley, ducking into the shadows until I felt like I could breathe again. Sinking onto the concrete, I leaned back against the wall, my fingers running through my hair. I missed them all so much it physically hurt. I was going to have ulcers if I wasn't careful. Chances were, I already had them.

For nearly an hour, I cried in the alley away from people. A sort of depression had settled in since the trial, and I hadn't been able to shake it. It wasn't like me to get so hung up, but I couldn't help it. Despite the communication, of didn't feel right. I knew I still had and exercised more liberties than military personnel did with their spouses which was probably why Casey was so patient. Still, it wasn't right for me. I had made the choice to remain a civilian because that life style was not for me. I was needy, I would always be the first to admit it. Even as I took care of others, I needed their companionship more than I cared to admit.

"Alex Cabot?" A man's voice over me asked.

I looked up, feigning confusion, though I was more startled. After three months, I had assumed they had stopped looking for me. "No. I'm sorry, you have the wrong person."

"Like Hell," he growled, reaching for me. I jumped up and tore off down the alley, not bothering to look back to see if he had a gun. It wasn't like knowing he had one would stop him from using it.


	8. Chapter 8

The one thing about white, blond women running is that no matter what they're wearing, no one pays attention to them. We're everywhere, in every city across the nation. No one looked twice to see a blond woman running unless it was to watch her run away. It didn't matter that I was in jeans and boots. People probably saw me running towards them and thought it was some new exercise fad. That was the other thing about blonds. When we do anything that breaks a sweat, people just assume it's some new exercise fad. Seriously, how many athletic brunettes are there in exercise videos compared to an otherwise equal blond?

It took me a few minutes to realize that he wasn't following me, and I slowed to a stop, one hand resting on the brick wall, the other on my chest as I inhaled deeply. I looked back for good measure, to make sure he hadn't come out of the woodwork when I had stopped. He hadn't, and I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall. I closed my eyes and pictured him in my mind's eye without trying to describe him. I just let the memory wash over me. That way, my brain had less opportunity to distort his face into more familiar features. If he was a credible threat, and I was inclined to believe that anyone who knew my given name was a credible threat, I needed to be as accurate as possible describing him to the agents.

That left getting in touch with the agents. First of all, my phone was in my bag in my locker at work. I didn't dare go back just yet, lest the man be there, waiting for my return. Yet, I would need to call my boss and let her know that someone had tried to grab me. I would leave the whole past life thing out, but the grabbing me bit was probably important. If he wasn't in the library, chances were, he would be either at the police department, the Marshal's office, or my home waiting for me. I had a seventy five percent chance of dodging him long enough to get in touch with the Marshal Service. That left me with a twenty five percent chance of meeting him. The odds were in my favor, but not enough for me to go to any of the four places. A twenty five percent chance was much more in his favor than the less than three percent chance that he would even find which city I was in, and he had beaten those odds.

"Okay, Cabot, get a hold of yourself, think." My eyes darted around the street in front of me. I had not ventured out of my house except to go to work, so I was still largely unfamiliar with the streets despite having lived int he area for a quarter of a year. Across the street from me was a health club. I rolled my eyes, but I thought they might have a public phone. Or, they might let me use one to call the agent my case had been transferred to - a Mickey Reyes, sweet guy, but a touch homophobic which lead to a lot of arguments between us.

That was it, then. I trotted to the front desk and looked at the holier than thou woman sitting behind the desk. My first thought let me know I was okay. Somehow, I think if I were too traumatized, I wouldn't be thinking, _Look, Bitch. I've got more brains, beauty, and braun than you'll ever have, so don't even start with me._ That didn't stop the settling panic from being panic, but her disdain for everyone clearly not svelt like her irritated me from the get go. "Excuse me, Miss," I said, going for polite. "May I use your phone?"

"No. We don't have public phones."

I fought the desire to roll my eyes and reach across the desk and slap her face. If it were between the two, I would have done both, but the third voice in my head was my angel voice. It helped me stay out of most trouble. "Would it help if I have to call the police?" I asked. "My ex-boyfriend just tried to grab me. He chased me down the street, and, really, I'm scared to leave in case he's outside waiting."

A personal trainer nearby turned and looked at me, his eyes traveling my body. I was actually trembling, though it wasn't until he called attention to my body with his eyes that I noticed how badly I was shaking, my heart thrumming in my chest. "Why don't you come into the break room and make that call in case he comes in here? What does he look like?"

"Six foot, brown hair, brown beard, blue eyes, um, white. I didn't get a great look at what he was wearing, but I think jeans and a black sweatshirt," I said, chewing on my lip. I hoped they didn't ask his name. I did not want to make one up on the spot.

The man nodded, jotting the description down. He gave the paper to the woman at the front desk. "If someone comes in matching that description, let me know. If he's belligerent or dangerous, call 9-1-1."

I followed the trainer down the hall to the break room where he sat me down and handed me a phone. "Do you need the number?"

Shaking my head, I dialed the Marshal's office from memory. I had two new agents on my case with the new city, one a woman, one a man. I was hoping to be connected to the woman. I still didn't trust the agents, but in this case, I really didn't have much choice. And, since Amber was a woman, I felt a little better talking to her. I knew her being a woman didn't actually mean a whole lot as far as her chain of command. And, women were more likely to be vindictive and less likely to keep secrets.

"Marshal Carter, please," I said when someone picked up. "This is Suzanne Coleman. It's an emergency." I watched the trainer as he stepped aside, trying to give me some privacy while still not leaving me alone in the employee break room which was scattered with back packs. I understood he didn't want to leave me alone with everyone's stuff, but I didn't know how much to say to the woman when she picked up, either.

"Carter," the woman on the other end of the line said. She sounded busy and distracted.

"Amber, it's Suzanne. Um, Alex came around today. He chased me down an alley by the library." Then, for all the strength I had been holding to keep myself together, I felt myself just crumble. "I'm scared, Amber." I sounded small and meek, and I could have licked myself for it. I was not small and meek, and it killed me a little that one encounter with one man could destroy it all.

"Okay. Where are you now?"

"At some fitness center, uh, 24 Hour Fitness, off Northgate." The trainer nodded when I looked at him to confirm my location.

"Okay. Stay there, alright. Is he still around?"

"I don't know. One of the employees let me use the phone in the break room, so I'm inside. I don't think he followed me all the way here, but I'm a little worried that if he knows where I work now, he might also know where I'm living."

"No, you're right. Stay where you are. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Call back if you see him again. If you need to, call 9-1-1, we'll deal with it later. I'm more concerned about your well being."

"Okay. Thanks." I hung up, sinking down into the chair. I ran my hands through my hair, closing my eyes. I was still trembling, and it was kind of freaking me out that I couldn't calm down. My heart was pounding in my throat to the point that I wouldn't have really been surprised if my pulse just leaped out onto the table. "Um, the agent working on the case is going to pick me up. Do you care if I sit in the lobby or something until she gets here?"

He nodded. "That's fine. How far away is he?"

"She's about fifteen minutes out," I said, scratching my neck, my nails digging in hard. I was so nervous, almost more than I had ever been in my life. The only more nerve wracking instance in my life was from the time I saw Casey pass out from blood loss on my kitchen floor. I hadn't known I would be so in love then, but I knew something inside of me would die if Casey did, too. When Temperance was born, I was just as nervous and afraid. This almost hit that, but I wasn't at risk of losing anyone. Once I was dead, I was dead. I couldn't bear to lose Casey or Tee, though.

Glancing at the wall clock, he shrugged. "I don't have a client for another twenty minutes. Not that I think you'll be trouble back here, but we technically cannot have non-employees here anyway, and I just -"

"It's okay. I understand. I'm just grateful. Um, thanks. I'm Suzanne."

"Dave," he said, shaking my hand. "Nice to meet you. Sorry that it's under these circumstances. Once the cop gets here, are you gonna be safe from him?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. It's been a crazy three months. I moved up here to get away from him, so, presumably not." I sighed, slumping even further in the chair. "Dammit."

Frowning, Dave pulled a chair out across the table and sat down. "Damn, Suzanne. I'm really sorry about that."

"It's not your fault. But, thanks." I pulled my legs up, my feet on the edge of the chair as I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my cheek on my knees. I fell silent, and Dave didn't ask to talk or push anything. I watched the clock out of the corner of my eye, and, after nearly fifteen minutes, I stood up and followed Dave back to the front lobby.

Amber was standing in the lobby, arguing with the woman, her badge in her hand. "She's almost six foot and blond, and she called me off of your phones. Her name is Suzanne."

"Amber," I called.

"Okay, Suzanne, you're okay? He didn't hurt you?" I shook my head. "Okay. Let's go back to the office. An agent already went to your apartment. Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, still shaking like a leaf. "I can't stop shaking."

"PTSD," she answered, touching my elbow gently. "Take a few deep breaths. You'll be alright."

I sucked in air, but it did nothing but make me dizzy. I looked back at Dave. "Um, thanks again. And, thanks for sitting with me."

"Not a problem. Good luck."

Biting my lip, I followed Amber out to her car, arms tight around my body as I physically tried to stop myself from shaking. The Marshal opened the passenger door to the car and I slid in, buckling myself. About the time, the door closed, I broke down, tears rushing down my face. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry," Amber said as she pulled away from the curb. "Tell me what happened."

I recapped the events from earlier that day as she drove the to Marshal's office, answering her interjected questions as she had them. "I want you to sit with John. I know you don't like him, but he's the best with the sketch program." Reluctant, I nodded. If they had found me, it was possible that Casey and Temperance would be next. I would do absolutely anything to protect the two of them. They were my whole world, even three thousand miles away. I wrapped my fingers around the pendant, hanging on to it. My thumb traced the tiny latch on the front of the heart. Sometimes, late at night, when I woke up from a nightmare, I held on to the ring inside, running my fingers over it, wondering what it would be like when Casey and I could actually be together, no more running around. But, if the man was from the cartel, then it would be a while before anything like that would happen. I started crying again. Maybe I just needed to tell her to forget about me, to let me go so that she could move on. She deserved so much better. And, if she was no longer waiting on me, the amount of danger she was in would probably decrease.

Groaning, I curled in the seat. I chewed at my lip. "What if they go after Casey next?" I asked.

"I contacted the office in New York and let them know to keep an eye on her. I called Detective Benson as well and just let her know that your identity may have been compromised. She said she'd check in on Casey and Temperance as much as possible without alarming them."

I nodded. "Thanks."

_I sat with John all afternoon perfecting that sketch. It was as best as I could do, and I really did not want to go home even though the Marshals okayed me to go pick up what I wanted. I was moving again. They didn't have an identity for me, and I was kind of okay with that. I wanted to be me again, but I didn't want to go back to New York. Amber asked me where I wanted to go, if I had any requests as long as it didn't overlay somewhere that I frequented as a child. _

_After a couple of hours, I suggested Billings, Montana and asked to be called Alison. Then, at least, I could go by Ali which is what my sixth grade teacher called me because she had thought Alex was too harsh. Little did she know I would turn out to be harsh. Though, the past few years didn't show me as a harsh person. It brought out my weakest side, and for that I was embarrassed. _

_They agreed. Mark was pissed that someone had found me, and I kept the print out in case I saw him again in Montana. The first week, I refused to leave the house. By the second, I knew I needed to get out. I was seriously in danger of locking myself in my house and never stepping foot outside. That was dangerous, and I didn't want to be that way. At any rate, I was beginning to doubt the man was with the cartel to begin with. There was something familiar about him, something I couldn't quite drag out of my mind, but I didn't think that it was because I had his picture taped to my fridge. I had seen him before. I knew it. But, I just didn't know where. Or when. _

_I wasn't allowed to talk to Casey. They cut the letters off, too, worried that the correspondence had been intercepted. It was driving me crazy not being able to write her. I still wrote letters, but they didn't get sent. In some, I told her about my days in Montana as Ali Bearings. In others, I confessed my fears and my secrets. I told her about my hopes and dreams for us and for Temperance. I asked her questions that I hoped to be able to pose in real life again one day. Each letter went into a binder I kept under my bed as well as a box of trinkets I picked up from shops around the city for both ladies in my life. Since I didn't know when I would see Tee again, I picked up things suitable starting around four years old and going up. For all I knew, I might never get to see her again, but I was holding on to the last thread of hope I had. _

_I took a part time job working in the back room of a supply store. There was absolutely no intellectual challenge, but, coworkers aside, I did not have to see anyone. It made it less likely that I would become a target again, unless my coworkers also led double lives. I tried not to think about it too much. I was going to drive myself mad. On the days I worked, I rode the bus straight too work, ever vigilant of who was riding with me and whether or not they noticed me. I kept an eye out for that man, though since I could ID him, I doubted he would come after me again in plain sight, if he had followed me to a new city and a new name, then he was watching from the shadows. That unnerved me, and when I got home, I always searched my apartment. _

_This place was a studio. The government covered the rent. I made just enough to cover other necessities. The Marshals looking out for me made it a point to get me an appointment once a week with their department shrink. It wasn't exactly what the shrink was supposed to be used for, but I think they were worried about losing my testimony to my growing paranoia. _

I wrapped my arms around myself, sitting on the twin bed that was mine until the panic set in again with a new set of hands grabbing for me in some alley somewhere. His sketch was on the bed in front of me, his eyes leering up at me, though he didn't really leer. Or, he hasn't I. Person. He had been so full of anger and hatred. Even if he hasn't chased me, he had made his point and secured in my mind the very image he was intending to project. He could find me anytime, anywhere. It would only be a matter of time until he chased me down again. I was the fox. He was the hound. And, he had those eyes that seemed to say that he was accustomed to making his mark. Maybe it was paranoia, but I did not doubt he would find me again.

And, if he didn't, my suspicion was that he would go after my wife and daughter. It was that dreadful thought that kept me up late into the night.

I had left them vulnerable. There was no excusing that. Simply knowing me as intimately as Casey did put her in danger. Being the child of the intended target put Tee in danger. I was getting myself in psychological trouble trying to reason it out. It wasn't that I thought Casey wouldn't stay. It was that I was afraid she would even to her own detriment.

More than once, I had considered starting shit with her to drove her off, but I couldn't even contact her until the, and the agent's words were exactly, active threat had been nullified.

Being that it was Montana, even though I wasn't exactly thrilled with guns, I appealed to the agency for a hand gun. My efforts were rewarded with a nine mil that I took to practicing with as often as possible. I didn't know what good it would do me. I had still been shot in New York, even with the gun Cragen had given me. I don't know what good it would have done in Seattle. The only time one had come in handy was when I had shot David, Casey's ex and former abuser. And, even then, I hadn't managed to kill him - which was my intended goal at that time. I was just glad he was a permanent fixture behind bars for the next twenty years. It didn't seem long enough for attempted murder, but at least Casey was safe from him. And Andy. Still not Jesse. He was still out there. And then, there were my haunters, the cartel.

I pushed the sketch off the bed and lay down. It was nearly midnight, and I felt miles away from sleep even though I was stone cold exhausted. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to sleep, but the images all returned at once. Olivia leaning over me, her lips moving, but no sound. Casey and David laying on my floor in bloody heaps. I had screamed, fighting an officer to get to her. They had to hold me back, naked and covered in two people's blood. Liam in the court house. Adam above me - I had consented, the trauma associated with that was all my fault. The man from the alley. Casey laying unconscious in a hospital bed after Temperance was born, Temperance laying in a NICU bed at that same hospital.

Earlier images pounded through my head as well, from my childhood, spent mostly at my uncle's feet in his court room. My first exposure to the evil in life, the first time I had actually seen someone attack someone else, the things that drove me to prosecution in the first place. The boyfriends I had before I stood up to my parents and told them that I didn't care what they thought of me during women, I was going to do just that.

At some point, I jerked up, my muscles acting reflexively. I was crying and sweaty, though I didn't remember starting to do either. My heart pounded in my chest, neck, and head, and I tried to recall the nightmare those thoughts had turned into, which was largely unsuccessful. A glance at the clock told me it was nearly two, and I lay back down on the bed, awake until sunrise when I drifted off again into a fitful half-sleep, disturbed by every sound from the neighbors' apartments and every sound I feared could be my own.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: You are all fantastic! I love these reviews. I love that you're all telling Alex to hang on and wait for Casey. That's so very sweet. AC lubs soon, I promise. As always, thanks for the reads and the reviews. **

_It took two months, but I managed to convince my boss to not only give me full time hours, but overtime hours as well. It wasn't that I needed the money, although, the Marshals were able to stop paying my rent each month and I took over payments. It was more that I needed to stay out of my house. It was a good apartment, but it was also the only place where those images haunted me. At any rate, my dislike of idle chit chat and my preference to staying in the back room meant that, not only did I get my work done but, I got more than my assigned projects completed. My boss, a man by the name of Francis whom I privately called Franny because he irked me, once asked me why I so disliked talking to others. I had just looked at him, shaken my head, and gone back to work. I never gave him an answer. I was tired of lying about my life, really, really tired._

_I went home and I barely slept. Ali was close, and I responded to the name much more quickly than I had any of my previous identities, but what I really wanted was someone to call me Alex. Or Wonderful or honey or whatever cute nickname Casey came up with. One word I desperately missed was Momma. That name, I wanted to hear again. It occurred to me more than once that it might be more than PTSD, which is what my therapist was treating me for. I wondered of depression weren't a part of that package combination there. Fuck that I would actually know. Granted, I had a pretty good reason to be sad, so maybe depression wasn't right. Grief, perhaps._

_It hurt to not know anything about New York. It wasn't the same kind of hurt when they told me Casey wanted nothing to do with me. That had been a hurt I could push through because I thought I hadn't had any others choice. This hurt worse and differently because I knew she was back there waiting, waiting for word from me, both of us knowing we would wait a life time. And yet, that large part of me still wanted her to move on. I wanted her to say 'fuck it' and go find someone else, man or woman. I knew she wouldn't. She, more than I, believed in the whole soulmates thing. We would be drawn back together, she had said in one of her letters. That was how soulmates worked according to her letters to me. It was what I wanted to believe, though at some point, I was going to have to accept the reality that perhaps it wasn't the case this life time. We wouldn't get our fairytale happiness or our castle by the sea._

_I almost preferred the concern that Casey had left me. At least then, I could try to blend in to my surroundings. I could try to be this new person, this Ali woman. But, knowing I wanted New York and knowing she wanted me made it so much more difficult to justify being someone I wasn't. I had it bad for the red head and the little brunette, really, really bad._

_Six months after the trial and the guilty verdict, I received word that Liam Connors had been deported to his native Ireland. In a way, it was a celebration. In a way, he had a get out of jail free card. I asked about him being able to return illegally to the States and cause more damage and hurt, but the Marshal assured me that would not happen. Apparently, the deportation was more like a hush hush extradition. Connors was wanted in many locals in Ireland, and police were standing by to arrest him when the plane landed. He wasn't going anywhere._

_Caesar Velez was also apparently incarcerated pending trial for the murder. There were kidnapping charges in there, too. He was being held in Riker's, and his absence from the free world might have explained why I didn't see that strange but familiar man again. Maybe Rafael Zapata didn't think I was a big threat to him. Maybe he had fled the country. My money was on the latter. Either way, I was impressed that they had apprehended the killer._

_I didn't know if that made me one step closer to freedom or if it meant that it hurt more because I still was not free. I had to testify in Velez's federal trial, which I would, but then, would that liberate me and mine enough that their loves weren't on the line for knowing me, loving me. But, that trial was at least six months out. The 180 days was still there, and since the feds operated a little differently, it would probably be more like a year, each side pushing the trial back. Or, each side if Velez waived speedy trial. If he didn't then both sides were bound by the same deadline. If his attorney were to push beyond the speedy trial date, the judge would rule speedy waived by default, then Mark could move in as well, drafting and serving motions. The ball was in Velez's court. I was, of course, interested in what he had to say or do. My future depended on him being locked away for life._

_A lot of people's futures depended on it, both born and unborn._

_I was never religious, but I prayed every day that he would go away for life to whatever god would listen. I didn't know if anyone was out there or if they even listened. Why listen to me, anyway? Not like I had ever done anything for them. Casey had a better rap with any god than I did. _

I lay on the floor of my living room, staring up at the ceiling. My mind was spiraling, and I didn't know how much more anxiety I could take. I was on ice with him being in jail. I had no idea if he would try to get someone to run me down before I could testify. I had no idea if he would go after Casey and Temperance. For three days, I had called in sick to work, shaking and entirely unable to function. I couldn't even keep food down. It was going to be a long six months before trial.

"Ali," a voice called from my front door. "Ali, it's Lizzy. Boss man sent me over. He says he wants to make sure you're not dead."

"I'm alive," I called but didn't move.

"Let me in."

"No, thanks."

"Alison!"

Groaning, I stood up, unlocking the door. "Lizzy, please, I'm just sick. I'll be back at work next week."

"Have you been to the doctor?"

"Nope."

"Maybe-"

"Not going, Lizzy."

"Ali."

I closed the door on her, and she pushed the door back open. "Ali, I'm not kidding. If you're this sick, you need to go to the doctor."

"No," I said again, though I stepped away from the door, giving up with the stubborn woman. I didn't know Lizzy very well, but she was the only other woman who worked in the back room with me, so she seemed to think we needed to have some kind of sisterhood bond. I just wanted to go home to New York. I wanted to go home. I wanted to lay my head on someone's warm stomach at night and watch movies, wrap my arms around the woman beside me and feel her breathing. Fuck, I was needy. I pinched the inside of my wrist, a new habit I had developed, when I started getting down on myself. I didn't know if hurting myself was a good idea, but it reminded me that it could be worse, much worse.

Lizzy followed me into the kitchen. "Who's that?" she asked, pointing at the sketch of the man from Seattle on my fridge.

"No one," I said quickly. "Um, Lizzy, what do you want?"

"To make sure you're really okay, Ali. You've been off the past couple of weeks."

Past six months, more like. I sighed, leaning back against the counter. "I'm fine, Liz. It's just some personal stuff going on. I'll get over it."

"Okay," she said, the word slow and drawn out. "I guess. You know I'm here, right? If you ever want to talk." I nodded, not that I would be talking to her any time soon, but the point was that she thought I would. Maybe it would get her to voluntarily leave my apartment. The sooner, I thought, the better. It wasn't that I didn't like Liz, I just didn't like her - or anyone, for that matter - in my apartment. If I didn't have to go back to work eventually, I would have thrown her out, but I doubted Liz was like Olivia or Casey, both of whom were women who could survive my temper tantrums with no hard feelings. I lashed out when I felt backed into a corner, and I knew this about me. I felt like Lizzy's presence was pushing me further into the corner, and I was so close to lashing out at her. With her personality, if I did that, there would be no repairing even our work relationship - though, I pretty much kept to myself as much as possible.

"Do you ever go out at night and have fun?" Liz asked me all of a sudden.

I glared at her. "No."

"Sheesh, no need to get so angry. A couple of us from work go out every Friday night if you wanna come. Just drinks and some girl time."

Shaking my head, I repeated, "No." Sighing, I glanced at the door. Maybe it would be better if I left. "Liz, thanks for the offer, but I don't want to go out. That's not my idea of fun."

"Well, what is your idea of fun?" Damn, she was persistent. I would give her credit for that.

I sighed. Going out drinking with the girls or the guys or the girls and the guys was fun, but the people at my work were not my kind of people, they were not people who could survive intellectual warfare, though that was not to say they weren't otherwise intelligent. They were not people who could look a killer in the eye, knowing he was a killer. They couldn't manipulate, twist, and convince people to confess to deep, dark secrets. They weren't haunted. And, I think that was it. My friends were all haunted, even the ones at the DA's office. Abigail, teeth and nails Abby, had been one of my closest friends prior to transferring to SVU. She mentored me in their cases, too, when I did. We could go out and have fun, let go of the baby killers and the child molesters and the monsters of New York for just a few hours because when we looked at each other, the haunt in her eyes matched mine. But, so, too, did the determination to do what others could not.

"Curling up with a good book," I answered. It was partially true. I did like to do that. "Look, Lizzy, it's not that I don't appreciate you checking up on me, but I don't really feel well, and I'm not in the mood for company. I'll be back to work in a couple of days." I herded her to the door of the apartment, closing it behind her and locking it. No, really, I didn't want company.

Granted, she did bring up a valid point. I would need a medical note to go back to work. I wondered if my shrink would write one. Please excuse Ali from missing a week of work, she had a breakdown because they extradited the guy who tried to kill her and caught the man who hired him. I laughed darkly. Oh, that would be rich. I saw my therapist that week, so I figured I could just ask her when I saw her if she could help me come up with something. It wasn't like the Marshals didn't know I was calling in every day. Maybe I could blame woman issues. My boss was a man, married at that. He would understand female problems.

_I had a relatively peaceful few weeks following that. I had hurt Lizzy's feelings because she refused to talk to me once I returned to work. I didn't try to force her to talk to me. Instead, I left her alone which I think wound up hurting her more, but I could not deal with girl drama. I had not been good at it in high school, and I had grown even worse at it as an adult, mostly because I didn't have the patience to deal with it. The silent treatment was stupid. If a person had something to say, they ought to say it. I was not going to go out of my way to drag it out of someone. It took her until my second week back at work to talk to me again, and I would be lying if I weren't a little disappointed that she started. She was a good person, but now she seemed eager to please me. Then again, she was about twenty four, twenty five, and I was almost thirty four. I had ten years on her. I wondered that she didn't concern herself with why I wasn't more successful than I was. _

_Then again, in my previous life, I had been. I had been a damn good lawyer. I had a wife. I had a child. Though, the latter two had come in the realm between this life and my last. Still, I had to hold on to those parts of my life to get me through this part. This part where I was thirty four and making eight dollars an hour before taxes doing something that while not worthless was hardly the impact I dreamed of having on the world. I had wanted to be the District Attorney of Manhattan. Both McCoy and Branch had begun grooming me almost from the jump at the office to fit into that elected position one day. Now, that was gone. I would never be the DA. I would never be a federal attorney. I would never work internationally. Cruel as politicians were, at my heart, that was what I was, and I had lost that. I couldn't do that out here. I couldn't call attention to myself. Any attention was a risk to my life. Not that I would stand up to a public scrutiny of my background, anyway. There was too much that was just colored on, no proof anywhere. My life was like pres__s on nails. Very pretty, but cheap and fake. _

It was almost a month after I received news of Velez's capture that I saw him again. I was at the grocery store picking up a few fresh fruits and vegetables when I glanced up from the bell peppers I was pondering over to find him watching me from the deli. There was no mistaking that he was watching me, either. Our eyes met for one brief second over the space, and I ducked my head, my heart instantly meeting my throat. I place the bell pepper in my hand in the basket and walked to the check out line, trying to act as though I didn't recognize him.

Trembling, I managed to pay for my groceries and, grabbing the two bags, fled the store, looking behind me on the walk home every few feet as I fumbled with my phone, trying to dial the Marshal's number to whom I had been transferred upon moving to Montana. "Joe, it's Ali," I said to his voicemail. "That guy from Seattle, he's here. I saw him at the grocery store. He was watching me. Please, please call me back."

I yelped, dropping the bags when someone grabbed my shoulder. The phone clattered on the sidewalk, breaking. An arm across my chest shoving me hard into the wall of the building knocked the air out of my lungs, heading off the scream that was building. The man's other arm crossed my neck. "Don't scream, Alex," he said, grabbing me and twisting an arm behind my back, standing me at attention beside him. I tried to hit him, but he grabbed my other hand, clearly prepared for me to do as much. "Don't hit, either."

I whined, pressed against the wall. I shouldn't have left the grocery store. The street was empty, though I was sure people in their apartments and business could see. There were always witnesses. Witnesses just never talked to the police. Or, maybe someone was on the phone with 9-1-1 as he pushed me harder into the wall, his mouth by my ear as I cried. I was a loner in this state. Who would miss me? Would my boss get concerned if I didn't show up to work without calling in? Would Joe try to track my phone and find he couldn't? Had I really gone so far down that the only people I had were the people whose end run was to get me to testify? "You are not easy to track down. Now, stop struggling, Alex. Behave, and I won't hurt you."

It was that phrase that made something connect in my brain, and I stopped struggling against him. He flipped me around so I was staring into his rich, blue eyes, his arm on my throat again so I struggled to breathe. If he took me somewhere, no one would find me. I barely saw the older model Honda pull up behind him, but I knew I was going in it when he pushed me towards it, another man getting out of the driver's seat and opening the back door. I knew with an older model Accord that unless someone inside got the license plate, there would be no finding the car for days or weeks, if ever. "Please don't kill me," I whimpered.

He pushed me roughly at the car. "Stop being a drama queen." I stumbled into the beck seat as he shoved and released my arm at the same time. I had to move fast to prevent my legs from being slammed into the door. "Buckle up," the man said as he got into the passenger seat in the front of the car. I would have reached through and tried to strangle him or something, but there was a police cage in the car. That alone made me pause. Not that it was impossible for civilians to get a hold of these things, but it just seemed so strange. It also seemed strange how familiar he seemed with me. It wasn't unheard off that a stalker would be familiar with the stalkee, but he talked to me like I was a child.

Closing my eyes as the car pulled away from the curb, I tried to imagine him at another time in my life. Him or the man in the driver's seat who had yet to say anything. Maybe younger. Had my uncle sentenced them? But, this was a long way to go for revenge, especially when my uncle was dead. So, they were with the cartel, then. Because anyone from my childhood, to go this far, would be insane. Was he crazy? I opened my eyes to find him watching me through the holes in the cage. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see when we get there."

"Who are you?"

His brows went up. "I'm surprised you have to ask."

But, I did.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: steple, it's not her father. :) Cute idea, though. Lol. I'm still not sure how I feel about this one. I'm a little hesitant. Tell me what you think, and be honest. Does it take away from the story? Or add to it? I'm trying to write in how she has so many connections and the wealth and power it seems to imply her family has in the show as well as why the cartel thought she was such a huge threat - it never seemed like prosecuting Connors was quite enough for it to be believable in the show. I always just thought it was lacking something. Plus, I think it might be adventurous. Anyway, like I said, be honest in what you think. Does it work, or no? Would you want to know more? Thanks. :) DMAA**

Most of my youth until boarding school was a blur, and even that wasn't the best. I had been sick a lot as a child. My nanny had taken care of me since my folks were gone most of the time, and when they were there, they were emotionally unavailable. I had relied almost entirely on my nanny until I was old enough to be sent off to boarding school. My early years had been filled with sickness, but after going to boarding school, it seemed that I was sick less and less frequently, usually only during summer vacations. I came to excel in my studies and never questioned why my parents began to send me out of the country to study during summers in schools in languages not native to me but which I picked up quickly. I didn't question when they stopped flying me home for my regular schooling, when I lived in France at thirteen by myself, studying courses with other French students my age. I'd had plenty of money for living expenses and had always been freakishly responsible. When I was State side, I stayed by my uncle's side, a permanent part of his court, staring over the bench, sometimes given tasks by the clerks to help them out. To me, it was just part of being a Cabot. It was the privilege of the wealthy. I was just a daughter of old money being groomed for politics and law, like those men and women before me who came from old money. It was all I had known, and it was normal.

But, it wasn't normal. I had been the only child, the unplanned child. They pushed me away as best they could, and I had never known why. I had never asked why because all around me, people marveled that my parents trusted me enough to live by myself as a teenager in France, Germany, Ireland, Romania, and England. They trusted me in their many family homes to not ruin the Cabot name. They trusted they wouldn't have to pick me up from any police department ever, no matter the country, and I had been the good girl, not wanting to be home because they didn't want me. Anything to stay out of their house, and if that meant being responsible, so be it. It was in Romania, anyway, that I had discovered my sexuality. For that, I owed them. Under the Cabot house rules, I would never have been allowed to consider it, but my first act of rebellion had been my greatest.

"Velez didn't send you," I whimpered, curling into the back seat, drawing my knees up, off the floor board of the car. I was betting that the doors wouldn't open from the inside, not the back doors, anyway. Even if it killed me, I was going to kick the windows out and jump. I did not like these men who would tell me nothing but made cryptic references to my childhood.

The man laughed. "Him? You actually thought I worked for him? He thinks he runs New York, but he doesn't. He never did. And, may he rot in prison." He paused. "Actually, what is today?"

"Friday," I answered automatically, though it seemed more likely that he was talking to the driver.

He nodded, not complaining that I was talking. In fact, he only seemed irked if I complained or if I struggled, and even then, he used as little force as possible to gain compliance. Looking at him, I wasn't even sure he was carrying. The driver definitely was, though. It made me think my bearded stalker did not think he needed a firearm. I wondered why he was so cocky. "Caesar Velez is scheduled to die tomorrow morning."

My brow furrowed. "He hasn't even stood trial."

"The State isn't the only party that performs executions."

"No," I spat, "Others just do it criminally."

The man shrugged. "What's the difference, Alex. Why does the government get to decide who gets to die, but the People cannot? What if someone went around killing only child molesters? Would you seek the death penalty then?"

I looked at him. "No," I said as though the answer were obvious. To me, it was obvious. I wouldn't need to think twice on that one.

"So, why seek the death penalty on a man who kills anyone?"

"Because, some people don't deserve to die."

"How do you know?"

I had been about to argue when I stopped. I didn't know. If a serial killer could be married with three kids, all of whom thought the world of their daddy, then how did I know that the people the killer killed didn't somehow deserve it. Didn't we all have our secrets? "Kill them all," I whispered, sinking back into the seat.

"Your father used to say that a lot."

I blinked at him. My father's opinions had solidly wore off on me despite our lack of contact. I was probably pro death penalty because of him. "I know," I murmured. It almost made me feel sad, nostalgic, but I didn't know for what. I had returned to the States for college only because an American college would make it easier to gain employment at an American job, and most voters did not seem to trust foreigners. Though I was born an American citizen, my father had argued that the voters would only see my schooling and call me a liar. I had told him that was a trait all politicians had in common, but he insisted on America, and when I told him I wanted to prosecute and work for fairness, he refused to pay for my schooling until I acquiesced to his requests. I refused saying that I would not go to college, then, and it was my mother who got him to pay at least for my bachelor's degree. I had gone after culinary arts to piss him off, nothing more. It worked, and he was livid that my bachelor's degree did not enable a political career. Hence, he paid for my law school education, grumbling about how I became a prosecutor.

"I gotta tell you, Alex, I'm surprised you're not in prison," the man said, turning to look out the front window instead. I glared at the back of his head. He was either trying to push my buttons, or he really just didn't care. I couldn't figure out his motive for pushing my buttons, but then, if he weren't with the cartel and knew my father, what was his motive for kidnapping me? None of it made sense; in fact, it all made my head hurt.

"Why would I be in prison?" I snapped. I had been in jail before, yes, on charges of contempt which had been dropped when I ducked my head and apologized to the judge who had held me in co tempt. But, other than that, I didn't have so much as a parking ticket. Not that I really drove much to get one.

The man shrugged. "It's why the marshals are so completely in your life and trying to run everything. You really didn't think they cared, did you? I mean, how hard was it for me to get you in this car? If they truly thought you were in danger, they would have headed me off a long time ago. I also doubt they're going to rescue you. Rather, if they get wind that you've gone missing, they'll try to find you to follow you. I'm guessing they would assume you've absconded from Witness Protection."

"They can't watch all their victims. We have to wander out on our own eventually. It's been almost seven months since I last saw you." I couldn't believe I was defending the Marshals. Yet, they seemed to be better than this guy, a man who admitted that he was, at least, affiliated with criminals and one himself if for no other reason than he kidnapped me.

"Yea. Like I said, you're hard to track down. Especially without outgoing mail. That was genius on their part. You know why they stopped that?"

"To make it harder for you to find me." He shook his head. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know what he would tell me. This was fucking ridiculous. This kind of shit did not happen in real life. Hollywood owned this shit. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Not the cartel." He was gruff, quick, and hard. He was obviously accustomed to pulling the strings of power. He controlled some kind of system, just if I could figure out what. He was not from the cartel. First, he was too white. Second, I genuinely believed he hated Caesar Velez too much to work for him. If he had talents in the illegal narcotics and fire arms trade, he would put them to use with another criminal syndicate, the mafia, maybe. But, broad daylight did not seem like a mafia kind of thing to me.

"Obviously. You don't think highly of Velez at all. Then, who? An organization bigger than the cartel." My voice was quiet, submissive. He seemed to like that, to approve. His approval of me probably meant I was less likely to be killed, though I had this strange feeling he didn't want to kill me at all.

"Which would be?" he asked, turning to look at me again, eyes expectant. I shook my head. "Oh, come on, you're smarter than that, Alex. Stop pussying around." I bit my lip. "Okay, let's look at this another way. I know you. I know your dad. I knew your mom. I knew your uncle. Your first girlfriend was Lisa Marx, an American in Romania, just like you. You two attended the same all girls boarding school. The instructors nearly had a fit when one of the dorm monitors found Lisa in your bed one night. Daddy's money saved your hide." I was shaking. How had he known? "Daddy wasn't too happy with you after, either. He forbid you from seeing women and even set you up with that Starsky boy, Alan. After you left him, complaining that he was too harsh even though he wasn't, there was Andrew, Rodney, Alek - Alek and Alexandra, everyone thought it was cute except you, Gregory, Roman, Todd, Matthew, Luka, Filip." He ticked off on his fingers.

"Stop it," I said, shaking my head. "I don't need the rehash. Most lasted less than a month. How do you know all their names, anyway?" My father had been obsessed with pairing me with a man, even though I was barely sixteen when Lisa and I were together. Most parents would have assumed it was a phase. Mine had straight forbidden me from being anything but straight. Like it was a choice. Or, rather, like he knew I truly wasn't. Greg, Roman, and Filip had all been almost ten years my senior. Rodney was in his late thirties before I was even legal in New York. It was probably the creepiest thing my father had ever done. Rodney, Filip, and Andrew were also brothers. I had nearly vomited when my father suggested it. Rodney had actually left me, thank goodness, because I refused to kiss him.

The man shrugged. "If you don't know, then I guess you're shit out of luck." He winked at me, and I snarled. "Don't throw an attitude around, Alex. We are being nice. We don't have to." Yes, he did. He wasn't the end run. I was traveling to someone, somewhere else. He had to get me there in a particular shape. Otherwise, he would have roughed me up more. I could see it in his eyes. That was what he did. He roughed people up to get what he wanted. I did not like him, not at all.

"Where are you taking me?"

"A hotel. You need to change."

"Um, excuse me? No. I think I'm fine. In fact, you should just leave me right here."

"Not a chance. Besides, aren't you curious about the marshals?" I was. He had me there. And who he was. Bigger than the cartel? The cartel only bowed to two groups. The Cosa Nostra and the Bratva depending on which of the two ethnicities was in power at the time. The man in front of me looked neither Russian nor Italian. Or, if he was some of one, I couldn't tell which. The blue eyes made me think Russian over Italian, though. If he was one, which I seriously doubted. What would Ivankov want with me, anyway? Bratva bosses generally did their own work, and Ivankov had been put in prison in 1995. I didn't know his release date, but I highly doubted he was running the high game any longer. So, that would put the Cosa in power. Again, though, what would they want with me? Sure, I came from an affluent family, but Cabot was a Norman name. My family was originally a mixture of English and French. Duke William of Normandy had been my family line's first liege Lord. Sebastein Cabot was the furthest back I could trace the Cabot family in America, and he had lived in Maine. My great something uncle, actually. Antoine Cabot, a Louisiana settler was my great something grandfather and had arrived in America nearly three hundred years later. I had been named after his daughter, Alexandra, who had moved to New York just before the turn of the century in 1799 and stubbornly refused to take her husband's name or give any of the children his name, a deed almost unheard of back then. But, she had the money to do it. He did not. There were Cabots who were Italian, but not my family line. Not the Cabots in New York. They were French-English. Or, so said my family tree. At any rate, we owed nothing to either of the other lines.

Crossing my arms, I pouted. "Fine. Why do they want to charge me?" At the very least, I could start with the one he seemed to want to give the most amount of information about. He was cryptic about his involvement with me, but seemed eager to give me something about the marshals. My thought was that he was lying, that was where that particular behavior came from.

"You're being investigated for receiving bribes and obstruction of justice, mostly."

I stared at him. "You're lying."

"Oh?"

"My record is spotless. I have a ninety seven percent conviction rate for Christ's sake. Who am I accepting bribes from? The other three percent? No one's perfect."

He shook his head. "That's not what they're looking at. In part, consider the people you went after."

"Rapists? I was doing my job." I leaned back in the seat, having practically jumped at the cage. "You're lying, anyway, because how would you know?"

"I was doing my job. I have a lot of information. Your father had a lot of information, too."

My heart raced. "You and my father worked together?" I asked. His tone seemed to imply as much. He nodded, only once and very shortly. "On what? My father was not a criminal."

"All people with money and power are criminals, Alex. At some point, they all do things, and they get away with it. You know that better than anyone."

I shook my head. "No. My father may not be a good person, but he is a decent one, and he is not a criminal."

"Okay, Alex. If you like." He held his hands out, palms facing upward as though giving up, yet there was so much more to that gesture. It meant so much more coming from him than it would from most people. At least, more than most people I knew.

Closing my eyes, I tried to center myself to focus, not surprised that I couldn't. What this man was implying was heinous. No. Not possible. No way. My father may have treated me like I was disposable, but that did not make the man criminal. He treated my mother like she was a queen. No criminal would do that. I paused. There was the rapist who had a wife and children and treated his family like they were his world and other women like they were crap. Everyone had their secrets. Had I not just thought that minutes before when we were arguing about the death penalty?

I was shaking, though minutely, and I could feel it as I breathed, hear my breathing catch as I inhaled. I was confused, thrown for a loop. Some might say that confusion was guilt, the beginning of accepting the impossible. Or, maybe it was the refusal of the possible. I did not believe my father had been a criminal, but I could neither prove nor disprove that theory, and that made it possible, even if I did not consider it plausible. But, it was possible aliens were living inside of our brains controlling us like robots and there was no such thing as free will. Possible, but not plausible.

"Fine," I finally said. "Let's assume you're not lying to me, that the feds are investigating me. When did my alleged actions cross state lines?"

"They don't have to if one of the people bribing you is a federal employee or United States ambassador " He had a point, and I knew too many of each to count. "Plus, your personal accounts, which have been frozen, by the way, since your death, not distributed to family, don't contain financial traces. They're looking at overseas accounts in your name, though. The money you spent on your lover is a little suspicious, too."

"Those are entirely innocent," I blurted, then covered my mouth. Oh, yea. It wasn't illegal to have off shore accounts, but having three was a little suspicious. They really were innocent. In fact, Tee's college was entirely paid for in one of the accounts. I would have to pay taxes on the money to bring it back to the U.S, but I didn't mind that. The interest it gained was better in a foreign country, anyway. The National Bank there liked to use Cabot money to make money off borrowers. Many extended family members had high financial accounts there, too. The other two were just kind of there. I had never done anything with them. My family had opened them for me when I was a child with several hundred thousand dollars, but not really much in terms of global politics. There were too many families with more power and finances than my family. "INTERPOL won't give them that without due cause."

"You being attacked by the cartel was kind of perfect. Bad for them, but perfect, too. Good because it gave them cause to look into you personally and watch everything you do. They want to control your conversations with Casey because they think she might be in on it, too. Strange, you know, you meet your successor in Special Victims in Santa Fe where her boyfriend conveniently transported her to kill her, and after only three days, she turns out to be this hard core lesbian and you two fall madly in love? They kind of think you guys had a relationship before hand. Makes more sense their way, don't you think?" Yea, I did, but I wouldn't say anything. Casey firmly believed that soulmates really could recognize each other immediately if the situation was right. Anyway, I had a think for red heads and women who bit their lip when they looked me over the first time they saw me.

He continued after a few seconds, watching me think about that one. "Bad, though, because why would the cartel attack a Cabot? Unless they didn't know who you were, which is unlikely, or, you don't know who you are, silly but, oddly, more likely. If you don't know who you are, though, you're not guilty. You can't be."

"Of what? They cannot go through all of this crap for bribery charges. They have bigger fish to fry."

"They want to turn you. There's an investigation going on between the ATF, DEA, and FBI that almost entirely rests on their ability to turn you and force you to take them inside. They tried to turn your uncle, too. The judge."

"You're saying they're responsible for my uncle's death? I'd be prone to think that maybe, if you're telling the truth about all of this, that my uncle gave up information to them, and you killed him as retaliation. Anyway, turn me against what?" I barked. I was angry, now. He was accusing my father of being a criminal, my uncle of being a criminal, me of being a criminal - or stupid, I couldn't tell which,- and, I was not okay with any of that.

"Whom," he corrected. "They want to turn you against whom?"

"Fine, whatever. You're evading the question."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Ya, it veers from cannon, but if you are okay with it, it might be fun. We'll see. Thanks for the reads and reviews. I'll continue to update if you still wanna read. :-) **

I licked my lips as the nameless bearded man opened my door. I watched him cautiously, preparing for him to grab me and drag me out of the car to my feet. I expected to be treated like a prisoner because that was what I was, even if all he had was the ability to destroy those I loved, and I did not doubt that. Legally, it was called coercion. "Do you want to be treated like a hostage, Alex? Or are you just going to cooperate?" he sounded exhausted of me already. Good, maybe I could still walk away from this. Then again, maybe he would just get so tired that he shot me right there. Oh, in a public parking lot where I could already see three security cameras. That struck me as odd, too, that he would take me to a place with security cameras. Kind of evident that he brought me.

Eying both men, I crawled out of the back seat. "I could bolt right now," I murmured.

"You could, but you haven't," my kidnapper replied, smug smirk to his lips. I wanted to hit him, to hurt him, to confuse him as much as he confused me. I did not like it when the playing field was not level and not in my favor. "You haven't screamed either, so why don't you stop posturing and we go inside." Not a question, a command.

Looking at the hotel, I slowly nodded. Though the outside showed the age of the building, the interior was immaculate. All white marble floors and white marble counters, a person almost needed sunglasses inside the place, too. The bell hop's uniform was perfectly pressed, as were the uniforms of the two women standing behind the counter. This was not a Billings hotel. This place belonged in New York or Vegas or some place foreign. It was not cheap, to say the least.

I looked the man who had driven the car to the hotel over, but he was silent as he held the elevator door open. He was taller than I was, but not by much, maybe five eleven. He wore a suit, his facial hair neatly trimmed. He seemed to be in perfect physical shape, his muscles rippling but not bulging under the black suit jacket. The man who was my physical escort was much more burly, rugged looking. The driver almost had a graceful air about him. And yet, I suspected, that if anything happened, the driver was the muscle, not the woodsman.

The driver did not accompany us up to the hotel room. Instead, he nodded to us both and stepped away from the elevator. "Where's he going?" I asked, the panic in my voice suddenly evident.

"To park the car. He will be up shortly. But, there is no sense in waiting. It only takes one person to park a car."

I bit my lip, staring hard at the floor. "Can I leave anytime I want?"

"Right now, yes. But, we are going to New York. The plane leaves at eight tomorrow morning. Don't you want to see Casey?"

"Not at the expense of her being dragged into this. We have a daughter, I just want them safe." I looked up at him, my eyes pleading.

"They will be. We can do that. If you walk away right now, you walk right back to the marshals and they will prosecute you. You will go to prison because they will not be able to turn you because you know nothing useful to them. It's nearly August. Leaving the Marshal's Service grants you the opportunity to be there when your daughter turns three. Stay, and you'll be cut off from her."

"You're no better than the marshals," I spat, frustrated. I was being given a choice between Hell and damnation, and I wasn't sure they weren't the same thing in a different package. "What do you want from me?" Needless to say, I understood the fancy hotel and the security, flaunting me in front of staff. I appeared willing even though he held something a hundred times more important over my head - he knew my family, so much about me, and I did not trust him not to hurt Casey or Temperance.

"Cooperation, Alexandra. But, we will talk more later, in New York. It is important that we don't talk too much here." Ears were just as telling as eyes. I looked up at one of the security cameras In the elevator, biting my lip. Did they audio record here, too? Was technology good enough to hear him confess to being a criminal, hear him say I was, too? People had been prosecuted for more on less. It was genius on his part. I was trapped.

I chewed my lip, saying nothing as we disembarked the elevator. I followed the man to his room, where he opened it with a key card. Inside, the room was dazzling. The living room had a couch, coffee table, and sizeable television. On the left, I could see one bedroom, on the right, a second. "What do I call you?" I asked. "You seem to think I ought to know you, but for all you know of me, I remember nothing of you."

"Tony is fine," he said. It was a lot better than some of the names I had been calling him in my head at any rate. Though, I didn't know about fine. He pointed to one of the bedrooms. "You will find a suitcase in the closet already packed for you. Still hanging will be a navy dress. Shower and put that on. We will be going to dinner, and dress code is very strict."

He didn't seem to think I would refuse, so I didn't, not until I knew exactly what I was dealing with. If he was telling the truth about the investigation, then the marshals wouldn't dare touch me. If he were lying, they would see me in the open and rescue me. I didn't know which I hoped for.

I remained compliant as I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the oversized shower. I stayed in the shower, the warm water caressing me until I managed to forget where I was, but not what I had been told. Impulsively, I turned the shower to cold and stood beneath the frigid water.

"What the fuck do you want, Tony?" I whispered into the icy droplets. "What did my father do for you? What can I offer?" It occurred to me that me getting back into law could be profitable for whomever it was that Tony worked for. He was right, I wasn't stupid. They stood to gain by taking me to New York. And, if the Marshals would lie to put me in prison despite true fact that I was clean, then I had to decide which offer was better. Where could I sleep at night? In prison? Or at home with my wife and child? But, there were thousands of lawyers with fewer morals than I. So, why me?

A knock on the bathroom door stirred me from my thoughts, and I became aware again of how painful the cold water was. "Alexandra, we have an eight o'clock reservation. I would hate to be late."

I stared at the door, turning the water off. "Coming," I called. I was acutely aware that I was being set up. I may not have known who he was, but I bet the feds did. If I were seen by agents, it would lend credence to his assertion that the agents would think I absconded. If he were truthful about the investigation, it would give them the ammo they needed to go to INTERPOL about my off shore accounts.

Towel wrapped around my body, I stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to find my escort sitting on the bed. "Move my accounts."

"Beg pardon?" he said, leaning back on his elbows.

"You've set me up. Even if I run out of here screaming that you murdered my uncle and stalked and kidnapped me, I'm going down with you. I'm getting arrested and charged, and even if I could have beat the conviction, whomever it is you work for on the east coast will have evidence boxed and waiting at the federal offices to convict me before I ever even see a judge for arraignment." I took a deep, steadying breath, closing my eyes. "Move my accounts so they're protected. That money is for my daughter and no one else. She will never want for anything. Neither will my wife. And, whatever happens, they will be safe and unharmed. And, not be told."

Tony smiled. "You are intelligent, Alex, much more so than your parents. Or, maybe you had a head start, have had the pieces since you were a child."

I bit my lip. "Stop stalling. That is the price of taking me to dinner. There are thousands of lawyers in New York. Your boss wants me. That comes with a high price. What I listed for dinner. There will be more for my other services. Do we have an accord?"

He held his hand out. I took it, a stone growing in my stomach. I just asked the devil for salvation, and I knew it. "D'accord."

Taking my hand back, I shuddered. "Break the deal, Tony, and let harm come to my wife or child, and I will kill you." The hard conviction in my voice scared me just a little. I knew I would do it because if Tony betrayed me, hurt Casey, or allowed harm to come to her, my aim would be better the second time. I hadn't managed to kill David, but I had shot him for hurting a woman I barely knew. I had been so angry with him. How much more angry would I be if someone hurt the woman I loved?

He smiled, folding his hands in his lap. My first business transaction had been in a hotel room clad in nothing but a fluffy, white towel, hair still soaked and scraggly over my shoulders. I suppose women do have a reputation of conducting business in the bedroom. "You are you father's daughter, Alexandra. I expect nothing less."

Had my father been ruthless? I did not know. But, to protect my family, I would be.

"Get out," I said. "If you want to keep your reservations, leave so I can get ready."

"Icy. You've turned faster than anyone I've ever met." He grinned as he stood, straightening his suit jacket, fiddling with the button in some self important way.

"Not turned," I murmured as I held the bedroom door open.

He strode past me, stopping at my feet, not even a foot from me. His eyes roved down my body once before flicking to my face. "Pity so much beauty and intellect is wasted on women."

Snarling, I took a step back and closed the door on him, locking it. I trusted him even less, and I did not trust him to attend to his end of the deal. All the same, I had learned at a young age, appearances were everything. I was no longer a naive young woman with ideals about law and order. But, I was still a Cabot, and I was still a force to be reckoned with.

I dressed and pulled my hair up and back into a bun. The dress was a navy halter with a cream colored silk sash around the middle. The hem fell just below my knees, and I had been provided cream sling back heels that put me about even with my escort. Upon getting out of my shower, I had discovered that all of the clothes that I had been wearing were gone. I did not know why they had been taken, but there were all of my necessities in the suitcase, and even the dress had been hung with brand new silk and lace garments that made me feel like a whore. In all reality, it was all beautiful, all expensive, and went entirely with the idea that I was a willing participant in this dinner as well as the bribes. The agents saw me like this, and I was screwed.

Near the box with the shoes was a second box. In this one, there was a stunning diamond necklace that screamed money, and I had the cold poise to go with it. I undid the heart pendant before taking it off and stashing it in the suitcase - which was filled with clothes that exceeded even my budget as a lawyer - but not before I removed the modest ring Casey had stowed away in the tiny vessel. I slid it on my ring finger, biting my lip. I still had the ring from my grandmother. I had taken to carrying it with me, even at work, even though I knew I would not see Casey. Even though she had never seen it, I felt like a part of her was with me. And, a part of my grandmother. Briefly, I wondered if this was what she meant about being straight to keep up appearances. Would I have to? I couldn't. It was a different era. It was more likely people would accept my family for what it was, where they had not accepted my grandmother.

Tony was watching my hand when I walked out of the bedroom, that before anything else. "Nice touch," he said before his eyes roamed the rest of my body in that guy manner that people always think about when they think of sleazy creepers. Leering was a good word for it. I didn't think he would ever force the issue beyond being the kind of guy to get a woman drunk or guilt trip her into consent, but I still wanted to go put on a sweat shirt after scrubbing myself. Maybe I was just sensitive because of my work with SVU and the nightmares Casey had after we first met, the things she had told me David had done.

"Touch me once inappropriately, and I'll cut your balls off and feed them to you." I was touchy, pissy, and angry. I'd already been set up to look guilty if I didn't put on a show. Even if I did, there was no guarantee things would settle. I had to trust self described liars and thieves.

He just smiled. "I like a violent streak in a lady. You'll survive just fine, won't you."

"I'm a New Yorker."

He just smiled wider. "You're a Vinovsky."

My brows went up. "I'm sorry, I don't speak , what is that, Russian?" He didn't say anything, only opened the door. I fiddled with the ring on my finger. Better to be in public in that he was less likely to harm me. Better to be in the room in that he was less likely to incriminate me in an act I had never taken. "Tell me, how is it that a man named Tony fell into the brotherhood, and not the family?"

"You know the name?" He sounded more pleased.

"Damien Vinovsky is a partner in my father's company. Of course I know him. The man brought me flowers when I was ill." Plus, I had pretty much narrowed that much down. I played dumb from time to time, but he had been right. I was not that stupid. It had to be one or the other to have the man power and pull to take out a top member of the Colombian drug cartel.

"How did you know he was with the brotherhood and yet claim to know nothing of your family heritage?"

I laughed darkly. "I didn't until you said something. Now, answer my question."

"Like you, Alexandra, it runs in my blood."

Me and my long fucking leash and the marshals who wanted to trap me at a game I had not even been a participant in. Well, I was being accused of it. Not that it justified it. Under any other circumstances, I would have told him to eat rocks. They say family ruins a man in that it makes him stronger while at the same time makes him weaker, more vulnerable. A man ought to do anything for his family. I might not have had the ten inches to prove it, but damn it if a woman couldn't be manipulated then same way a man could when his wife and child were threatened. And, oh, did I view Tony and whomever he worked for a credible threat. Mine would not be the first child whose life was altered at his hands, nor, if he did it, would she be the last.

"I cannot be bought on fear alone," I said. "Terror only goes so far." I was half bluffing. The correct application of fear could go a lot further than people thought. And, Tony was already exploiting my weakness.

"I expect nothing less from someone like you. Everything can be discussed in the city, not here. Tonight, you be my arm candy. You'll be back in your New York apartment by tomorrow night. Your little girl misses you." I stiffened, and he saw it, smile curling over his lips. I hated him. I hated him so much. If it came down to it, he would use whatever terror it took to gain my compliance. "Why me?"

He moved to pet my cheek with the backs of knuckles. "Poor Alex," he mocked. He was watching my hands, waiting for me to strike with them. Instead, I twisted my head quickly, biting him, catching him off guard. He slapped me, hard enough that I stumbled on my heels. "Don't you fucking dare, bitch."

"Touch me again, and you'll be eating your own testicles. Assuming you have any," I snarled. I could taste his cologne in my mouth. I'd touched enough rich boys to know that expensive cologne even tasted different from the regular kind, and Tony wore expensive cologne. I saw the rage in his eyes, too. The man could beat me within an inch of my life and not lose any sleep over it.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Here. Has happiness. Is gift from me to you for being amazing readers. :) **

Dinner that night was remarkably easy going considering it was a dinner with me and a man in a fancy restaurant. It could have gone a lot worse, needless to say; though Tony made sure he was seen with me which was irksome. I had to kick him twice under the table at dinner when he tried to pick up my hand and play with it in that way people sometimes do when they're thinking. Except, he wasn't thinking. He was acting. I didn't like that any more than I liked him. "Look, Alex, you chose to wear the engagement ring, not me," he hissed as I caught him in the knee the second time. I was impressed. He hardly grimaced. With how hard I had kicked him, I knew he wanted to use a few choice expletives.

I yanked my hand to my chest, cradling it over my heart. "Yea, to remind you that I have a woman in New York that I love deeply. Look, I appreciate the rescue me from the prison, but your solution is to put me in another cage. I'm doing this to humor you."

"You said you wanted those things for dinner, right?" he asked, alluding to the deal with had struck. "Well, Alex, this is part of dinner, get used to it. Your morals aren't that scrupulous, anyway, so don't even start with me."

"I am not engaged to you. I would never marry a man."

"No? Not even Adam, huh?"

I snarled at him. Our voices were remarkably quiet, not carrying over the din in the restaurant. It was something I had learned young, how to have an argument over dinner without the whole restaurant hearing. Tony had apparently learned it, too. "No. Not even Adam. Look, you want some little lawyer for your boss, fine on condition. You want a bunny? You're barking down the wrong rabbit hole. I do not want your affections, not now, not ever. Touch me again, and I'll walk out of here. Then, you explain to your boss how you lost a deal because you couldn't keep your filthy hands to yourself."

"Mm hm. I have to get you back to New York. No one ever said how. I was hoping you would come willingly, you know, be with the wife and kid and live in peace except that your morals would bend to work for my boss, not without a fee, by the way. He's known for paying people."

"I don't want your money," I interrupted.

He grabbed my wrist in his hand, crushing it. I felt pain and fear crawl into my stomach, and I looked at him. He could hurt me with ease. "Fine, then work for free. I don't care. I could tie you up and put you in a suitcase, though, and fly you out to New York. Hell, Alex, he doesn't care how you show up, just that you show up. I think he would forgive my indiscretions if I explained to him why you arrived in little pieces." I saw real anger in Tony's eyes, and I almost yelped at the mere sight. "Now, we do not talk shop in public, Alexandra. Work stays at work, you got it?"

I nodded as he squeezed my hand tighter. I swore I could feel the bones grind internally, and the very thought made me want to be sick. He loosed his grip after several seconds, his hand sliding over mine. This time, I didn't move my hand away or kick him. I just stared at him wondering if it were possible to kill him in his sleep that night at the hotel. I was sure he would have measures in place to ensure that I didn't do that, but that didn't mean that I couldn't. "Good," he intoned, stroking his thumb along my fingers. "Like father, like daughter."

It happened before I realized it happened. His hand left mine, touching my cheek. I let him at first, but when he pressed his thumb into my mouth, he was met with a stubborn refusal. The next thing I knew, I had his arm pinned to the table in one hand, the other hand gripping the steak knife poised over his palm, his other hand wrapped around my wrist, preventing me from stabbing him. "Oh, yes, you are your father's daughter," he said with a laugh, squeezing my wrist again until I heard a pop and the knife fell out of my hand. I didn't remember picking it up. "You hesitated, Alex. You saw what you were doing as wrong. If you want to succeed, you cannot hesitate."

I shook my head. "If you're implying I'm a monster, you know nothing about my father."

"And, you know oh so much more?" he asked, releasing my hand and taking the knife with him. My hands fell in my lap, the right one burning where the pop had come from. I wondered if I would need to get that checked out. I doubted he had broken anything, but how did I know?

_We kept our hands to ourselves most of the rest of the night. When we got back to the hotel, Tony offered to give me a back massage which I thought was weird. I declined, locking my bedroom door and sitting on the bed, crying until Tony picked the lock and came to sit beside me. He insisted I take three little pills in his hand. I didn't want them, but he forced them down my throat, pinning me to the bed in a quick movement that told me he was used to administering medicine to reluctant patients. I tried to vomit whatever he had given me back up but to no success, and eventually, I fell asleep. I woke up around three in the morning with a raging headache to voices in the living area that I did not recognize. Did mobsters ever sleep?_

_Quietly, I crept to the door and listened, but there was nothing that I could hear that I truly understood. I knew about gangs from Hollywood, not from real life. I had known they existed, sure. I had even prosecuted a few of them. But, that did not mean that I understood how the organization worked. It was all a mystery to me, though I would soon be getting a crash course. Whatever trace amounts of the medicine was still in my system kicked in before I could really listen, and the next thing I knew, I was being pushed across the floor by the opening door because I had passed out right there. _

"Uncle Damien," I murmured, still sleep induced, still drugged. "I don't feel well."

"It's okay, sweetie," a voice over me cooed. "Take your medicine, and you'll get better."

"Hold me?" I begged, small and delicate. I was only five years old. At least, I thought I was. It was where my brain had taken me, the safety of ignorance. Someone moved me against them, but it didn't feel right. The world was not as safe and protected. It was small, though I was smaller still, and the thud thud of the heart beside my ear changed my dreams.

_I was out of it in the car on the ride to the airport, my head lolling from side to side as I muttered in my half sleep about things I didn't even remember. Most of the car ride and the airplane ride was a blur. I vaguely recalled that someone near me was telling people I was gravely ill. Something uncomfortable scratched at my face, and I could only assume it were some kind of mask. I knew enough to know I was in a wheelchair, but not enough to know why. My body felt like lead, though. I couldn't control it. Tony hadn't been kidding. I could go willingly, or I could go as a prisoner. I guessed I was going as a prisoner, though the realization came only after the drugs wore off. _

_I had strange dreams about long hallways, people staring at me, and words in tongues foreign to me for what felt like days but probably only amounted to about ten hours. Shortly thereafter, I found myself waking up on a bed in a foreign room. The room was empty except for the bed and a vanity set on the opposite wall. I stared at the mirror, stared at myself. My eyes were sunken and my hair looked scraggly. I felt weak and cold, a headache pounded through my skull, ricocheting off every possible point. My body was sore. Not in that I had done something manner, but in the way the body becomes sore during an influenza infection. I just ached. _

Slowly, I climbed out of bed. The mattress was rather large, a queen, I thought, which was big for one person, though, until Witness Protection, that was my bed's size in every house I lived in once I had my own bed. The sheets were satin which was very nice if I had a lover over, but this was not my house. I ran my hands over the comforter, a pale white with a pinkish floral pattern that almost wasn't there. Four posters with a canopy and a head board were done in antique fashion and matched the vanity that I had noticed upon waking.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I stood in the middle of the room, chewing on my lip and looking around. I was in clothes that were different than the ones when Tony had given me the pills which meant someone had undressed and redressed me, and that creeped me out more than I was willing to admit. Actually, that flat out terrified me. I just hoped that it wasn't Tony who had undressed me. Anyone but him.

"Hello?" I called, though I had no idea where I was. I hadn't even tried the door. I was just assuming someone was around who could hear me. Cautious, I dropped my arms. The night gown I was in was thin and cotton, and I was almost instantly cold. I wrapped my arms back around myself, searching for a means to stay warm. I glanced briefly at the comforter, considering wrapping it around me. Instead, I went to the closet.

To my surprise, not only did the door open, but there was a silk robe hanging on the back of the door. There was nothing else in the closet, but I didn't mind. I grabbed at the dark blue material and wrapped it around my body, tying it tight at my waist. At least it covered everything, and it was long enough that it almost met my ankles. Still barefoot but considerably more relieved, I tried the door that presumably led out of the room. Indeed, it opened into a hallway, another door leading to a room across the hall from mine, and one more down the hall a little ways. At one end of the hall was a window. At the other, a staircase leading down. I went for that.

I was shaking like a leaf about halfway down the stairs until I realized that there were a group of people sitting in what appeared to be the living room just shy of the base of the stairs. Then, my Cabot upbringing took over, and I became rigid, swallowing my fears for the sake of appearances.

"Ah, Alexandra, you're awake, excellent," a man in his late forties said, gesturing for me to join the circle in the living room. What I had thought were people turned out to just be men of varying ages between twenty and sixty with the average probably being about forty five. They all turned to look at me, and I met each of their eyes. In each, I saw the same thing I saw in Tony's eyes. They could all beat me within in an inch of my life and not even be phased. Great. This was fabulous.

"Come, sit, sit. I introduce you," the oldest man in the room said, and I was reminded something of _The Godfather _as he patted the seat beside him. I hesitated. "I do not bite, Alexandra." He had a Russian accent. At least I was confirmed as to who wanted me to follow in my father's footsteps.

"I do," I murmured. Those men close enough to hear laughed.

"She's feisty, Malachai, where did you find her?" asked a younger man, looking to the older man almost as though he were in awe. I didn't get it.

"She is family," he answered in that halting manner that said English was not his native tongue, waving his hand to me again. "Come, Alexandra, you are holding up business." Reluctantly, I sat down beside him, pulling my robe tighter. I wished I had grabbed the comforter, anything to put more space between me and everyone else in the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I said. "Creeped out."

The man, I assumed Malachai from the other man's identification, laughed. "So honest. Like your father."

"Where is my father?" I asked.

"At his home."

"John Cabot," I repeated. My head hurt, but I didn't like how everyone kept comparing me to my father as though he were family.

"Him? Yes, he is at his home." The answer did not entirely satisfy me, but when my options were limited to pissing a high level true blue gangster off in front of a bunch of his comrades and playing nice, all I knew was I was going to take the option that would allow me to see my wife and daughter again.

"What do you want with me?"

Malachai looked at me, appraising me in the way a father might appraise a child, or a teacher would look at a student. It was as though he were trying to decide how much I had grown, if I were old enough, big enough, brave enough. Finally, he said, "Your loyalty, Alexandra, and nothing less."

I knew enough about law and vernacular to return, "Define, Malachai."

"You work for the District Attorney, no?"

"No. I used to, but then I died, remember. Your goon smuggled me out of WPP."

"Ah, yes, but that is no problem. Your discharge papers, if you will, I have, signed by a federal attorney. You are free to walk away from the Witness Protection Program. Your American accounts have been unfrozen. And, as you asked my goon, as you say, your off shore accounts have been juggled." I pursed my lips. The man had at least one federal attorney in his pocket, then. I wondered which one. I would find out on the paperwork giving me my life as Alexandra Cabot back.

I chewed my lip. Tempting. "That doesn't mean Arthur will give me a job."

"He will if you take it. You are Alexandra Cabot. He would be a fool not to." He pointed to himself, puffing up just slightly. "I've been watching you, Alexandra." He pointed to me, almost touching me with his thick finger. I thought it couldn't be more cliché. All he needed was the suit. "You're a good attorney, a very good attorney. Now, if you were a defense attorney, I would have you working for me, getting my men off charges. I bet you could. But, you are a prosecutor. Normally, I spit at prosecutors, but you are very useful. I need you to make some charges go away every once in a while."

I raised my brows. "What kinds of charges?" I asked.

"Homicide charges, mostly."

I shook my head. "I work in rape crimes, Malachai. I won't be of any use to you."

"Ah, no you don't, Alexandra," he said. "You work where I put you."

"That's not how it works."

"It does when I pull strings, Alexandra."

"I can't drop charges," I protested. "People are going to get suspicious and investigate. They'll figure it out, and I'll be the one at the defense table. No."

He waved his hands. "Then, don't drop all of the charges. Probation, maybe do a little time, then parole. Nothing that takes my people from their jobs for too long, see?" I did see, and maybe that was the problem.

"If I say no?" I asked, the bottom dropping out from my stomach.

"You end up at the defense table." It was better than the ME's table, but not by much. "I have evidence that, how do you say, makes you guilty of, oh, first degree murder?" His tone made it a question. His body did not. Did he have the evidence? If I refused his deal, he did. If I agreed, he did not. "Is that right? I said that right? I know very little about the law, see, Alexandra. You will have to teach me."

I looked at each man in the room, watched their hungry eyes. They were eager for my answer because it meant something good for them either way. "What about my family?" I asked.

"Casey does not know about this meeting. She does not have to. No one will interfere with Temperance, either. They're safe unless you deliberately screw us over." This from the younger man who called me feisty. "Equally, they have the brotherhood's protection should they need it. You are family, and family comes first. You'll receive financial compensation for your, um, assistance in these matters into your off shore account."

I chewed at my cheek. "How frequently are you talking, Malachai?" I asked.

"Not very often. It is not often we get caught."

"Put a number on it for me."

"Maybe ten cases a year, Alexandra. Now, in a city like New York, is that too much to ask?" He sounded like he believed he was being reasonable.

"If I still say no?" I asked, chancing it. How badly did they want me?

"Who do you think the victim is in your murder case?"

My heart froze. For several seconds, I would swear under penalty of law that my heart did not beat. "Why me?" I asked.

"You're already family, Alexandra. We turn to family first."

"You threaten family first, you mean," I murmured, my voice low. I still did not understand how my father's involvement with them made a difference. Or, my uncle's for that matter. I remembered what Tony had said. My uncle had flipped on the mob and started talking to the feds. It had earned him his death. What was going to happen to me? Worse, what would happen to Casey and Tee? And, they were talking about framing me for their murder. I didn't mind going to prison for something I didn't do, but a world without my girls, even if neither ever spoke to me again? That was too painful.

"Do we have a deal?" Malachai asked.

I took his outstretched hand firmly in mine. "Yes," I said.

"Good. Very good."

_Branch hired me back on that day after I showered and Tony drove me to the DA's office. Malachai must have pulled strings quickly because the first position I was offered was in the homicide bureau. Branch apologized that it wasn't sex crimes, but said that my protege was amazing in the unit and they didn't have the budget for a second chair in that unit, though they were working on it. I took the homicide position and found myself in the office marked Bureau Chief, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. I tried to refuse, but Branch insisted stating that I would be perfect for it, that I was moving up in the political world. Just what the Russian Bratva needed, another politician in their pocket. I didn't know how I felt about that, but I had seen too many bodies of children. My own child did not need to be added to that. _

_I sat at my desk for a good forty minutes after Branch left me alone, the door shut and the lights off, and I just thought in the silence. I had signed my soul over to the devil, Lucifer himself, and now I was dancing in the flames. On one hand, it terrified me. On the other, I was thrilled, excited, and curious. If I wielded it correctly, I would have near limitless power. Once false move, and it wasn't just my life in ruins. I had no idea how this was going to look ten years down the road, assuming I made it to 2016. Ivankov had been extradited to Russia two years prior, apparently, where he was acquitted of murder charges only recently. Malachai could not tell me if his boss were returning to the states, but that did not seem to matter to him. The Russians still seemed to own most of the eastern shore, though the Cosa was vying for a strong hold. It would depend where the cartel lay its allegiance, and though I hadn't voiced it, I thought that with their hit on Velez, the Bratva had all but lost that title. Still, I valued my head. I did not open my mouth. _

_Tony was anxious to get moving. Apparently, he was to accompany me clothing shopping and take me to a tailor to make sure everything fit correctly. I tried to tell him that I had plenty of clothes, but Tony insisted that Malachai preferred the women who worked for him to dress like they worked for him. I had to remind him several times that I still had to look like I worked for the District Attorney. _

_But, I had one stop to make before I left with him again, and I told him to shove it if he thought he could be impatient about it. _

I didn't even bother to knock. I just slid in through the door which had been propped ajar, shutting it very gently behind me. Casey was on the phone and didn't notice me, so I just watched her. Her red hair was down, cascading over her shoulders. She looked even more fit and healthy than the last time I had seen her. Her laughter caught in her throat just perfectly, and I couldn't help the butterflies. Quietly, I moved behind her; she never noticed. I had to admit, it felt good to not have her jumping every second of the day. I wish I had been there to help on that journey. Leaning forward, I very softly kissed her ear.

That did make her jump. She screamed, the phone clattering to the floor. "Oh my God," she breathed, her hands clasping over her mouth as she stared at me.

"Casey?" I heard on the phone. "Casey, are you okay? Is someone there? Casey?" It was Olivia's voice, and my heart ached. I shook my head and pressed my finger to my lips. I did not want the detectives anywhere near me. Every second already felt like betrayal. I was afraid I would confess to Olivia. My heart would not be able to bear that kind of burden; outright lying to her had never been something I could do. Twisting the truth I could do, but how does one make 'I work for the Russian mob' sound remotely pleasant or legal? It was going to be bad enough lying to Casey by omission.

"I'm fine. And, yea. One of the interns was just being funny, scared the crap out of me. I've got to go, Liv. I'll talk to you later." She hung up the phone, slowly rising to her feet. Eyes wide as though she were still in shock, she touched my face, my hair, my lips, ran her hands down my arms and took my hands. I felt her pause over the ring which I hadn't taken off. Her brow furrowed, her fingers running over the metal and gems.

For a brief moment, she glanced down at my hand, then back up at me. I had forgotten I was wearing it. "Alex, when did you?"

"I didn't want to say yes until I knew I was out of Witness Protection, until I knew I could be with you and Temperance forever, not just whenever it suited the Marshals." Her fingers touched my cheek, eyes sad, and she opened her mouth to say something. I lay my finger over her lips, and she closed them again. "This is so not how I wanted to do this, but you forced my hand."

Taking her hands in mine, I pressed both our hands between us. "I know the last three years have been hard on you, Casey, on the relationship we have. I haven't been there for you like you deserve, and you have every right to say no. If you've changed your mind, I will understand."

"Alex," she murmured, interrupting me. "You're babbling."

"Shut up and marry me?"

She pursed her lips. "Do I have to shut up?"

I considered this for a moment, watching her. I wanted nothing more than to cry. "No," I said, shaking my head.

"Then, yes," she answered, sliding her hands up around my neck. "Of course I will." Her lips met mine, and the dam in me broke. I cried as I pulled her closer to me, wanting to swallow her. As I broke away from her, I reached into my pocket. My grandmother's ring had been something that stayed with me from the moment Malachai gave me back my suitcase. I didn't trust the mobsters not to deprive me of my things again, and that was one thing I did not want to lose.

I slid it onto her finger before I pulled her to me again. We kissed like we were hungry, and in a way, we were, for each other. Out of habit, I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around me. Carefully, I set her down in the middle of her desk, still kissing her, my tongue finding every familiar inch of her mouth. Tony could wait. Malachai could wait. Branch could wait. Fuck it. The whole world could burn for all I cared. Standing there, staring down into the intelligent green eyes of the one woman who made every Earthly hell worth fighting through, knowing that as she stared back up at me, there was such a thing as forever, I was the happiest woman in the world, and no Russian devil or Apocalypse or any number of anything else was going to interrupt that.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long. Some Casey-Alex-Tee time. :) **

_Leaving that office was the most difficult thing I had done that day, and that said a lot considering how my day had gone. I knew details about a first degree murder that had occurred early that morning. I was now working for the brotherhood. I had lost about all of my freedom to ensure my freedom – and the lives of the two people I loved on this earth more than I loved anything or anyone else. I had actively made the decision to not involve Casey. She would be mad, but the less she knew, the less likely she would spend time in prison if I got caught. But, knowing she was there, so close to me, and yet so far away, leaving that office was difficult. _

_I lied. I told her I had to finish paperwork with the Marshal's Service and after that, I would meet her at her apartment to spend the evening with her and our daughter and explain whatever questions she had then. The reality was that I needed the time to get my story straight. I didn't like it, but it was better than burying the two of them. My mind was already working overtime to get us all out of the mess relatively unscathed. I might take some prison time over it, but if I could nail Malachai, I might also get immunity. That was what I was gunning for. The problem was, I really couldn't talk to any of the federal attorneys I knew since I didn't know which ones were accepting bribes. Fuck. I was on my own, possibly with the squad if push came to absolute shove. I would try to keep them out of it, too. I wasn't ready to face Olivia a second time, anyway. _

_The ride back to Malachai was quiet, and I sat in the back of the car, hands folded over my lap. Tony drove. I told him if he took his eyes off the road, I was going to break his fingers. He responded well to threats of violence which made sense to me, I supposed, given the subculture in which he existed. At the same time, though, I think it turned him on to have a woman telling him what to do. I could not deal with that right then. I really would hurt him if I had to, but I generally did not like hurting others. _

_Malachai put me in a cab after giving me a cell phone by which only his people would contact me and letting me know how the whole me committing a felony was going to go down. Basically, I would receive a letter, along with any judges in his pocket, about a defendant that needed to be released. It would have only the defendant's name in the envelope, nothing else. I was to burn the envelope, take care of the problem, and then burn the paper containing the defendant's name. If at any point, I believed law enforcement were investigating me, I was to notify Tony via text using the code word "robin" and then all communications to me regarding defendants would cease until the threat could be verified. It was strange thinking of law enforcement as a threat, but if it suited them. _

_Other than that, though, I was free to live my life as I saw fit._

_The cab took me to the District Attorney's office, and I rode the train to Casey's apartment. Nick was working that evening, and he remembered me as if I had never left. Casey was not home, but he buzzed me up, giving me the spare key to let myself in. Apparently, Casey had already called the office and said I would be stopping by. Good woman. She was more fantastic than I had words for, and it killed me that I couldn't give her the fairy tale she deserved. _

The apartment was almost like I remembered, but the toys in the basket were more geared towards a toddler, there was a play kitchen in the living room as well as stacks of books in the corner that were kids books. The fridge held pictures colored by three year old hands, and I stepped over to examine them. Most of them had Tem scrawled in the corner and the date she drew them. A few had another name, Matthew. I assumed it was another child Tee's age from a play group or something, but I didn't know.

I walked the apartment, looking at the pictures. Temperance was in a lot of them. So was a boy about a year her junior. I assumed that was Matthew. There were a few of a young couple about eighteen, the younger boy with them. I didn't know who they were, but I just figured Casey made friends in all kinds of places. A card on the mantel caught my attention. It was a birthday card to Casey that year. Inside, in crayon was written, "Dear Auntie Casey/Mommy, We loves you very much. Happy Birthday. Love Matty and Tem." Crayon doodles decorated the inside of the card, and I smiled. Maybe the young man was one of Casey's brothers. I would have to ask her.

By the time the door opened, I was fighting tears as I stood in the middle of Tem's messy bedroom. I had missed the first three years of my daughter's life. I had no way of making up for it to Tee, Casey, or myself. But, at least, I would be there from that point forward. It just didn't feel like enough. Nothing would ever feel like enough.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, lips on my neck. "She's grown up so much," Casey whispered.

"I know," I murmured, tears trickling down my cheeks.

"You know, I have a lot to tell you, too. Why don't you come out into the living room? Tem and Matty are picking out a movie."

"Who's Matty?" I asked, turning to face her.

"Jake and Maddie's son. I met Jake right after you left. He was fiften and about to be a dad. Maddie was the same age. Jake was feeling pretty down, so I just offered to be there for him. Turns out, both of them are great kids, and I pick up Matty when I get off work. He and Tem go to the same daycare. That way, Jake and Maddie can work more and study more or just do whatever they need to get done."

Smiling, I kissed her cheek. "You are so amazing. How did I get so lucky?"

"I don't know," she murmured, kissing me back. "But, Matty's going to love his Auntie Alex, and Tem's missed you."

I followed her out into the living room. "Tem, look who it is," Casey said.

Kneeling down at my daughter's level, I watched her, the tears starting down my cheeks again. She had gotten taller. I swore she looked more like Casey than when I had met her. "Remember me?" I asked her.

"Momma," she said, the word soft. "Like the pick dur."

"Yea," I said. "Momma." I held my arms open. "Can I hug my baby?"

"Not baby. Big girl."

"Okay," I said. "Can I hug my big girl?" She fell into my arms, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight to me, crying.

She leaned back and patted my cheek. "Sh, no cry. It okay."

"It's perfect, Tee. I love you so much." I looked to the little boy staring at me wide eyed. Holding one arm out, I gestured for him to come and join the hug. He smiled broadly and toddled into my side, clinging to me. "Hi, Matty."

"Hi."

Holding them both to me, I fell back to the floor. Temperance climbed into my lap, and Matthew decided to combat her for space, so I adjusted them both to accommodate. With the two children in my lap, I looked up at Casey. "She's perfect," I said. "You're the best mother in the world."

Casey leaned over and kissed me. "As if. You think you can keep them occupied while I make dinner?"

"Absolutely," I purred. I would have happily skipped dinner to play with the kids and Casey, but they would need to eat, and so did Casey. For that matter, so did I. I hadn't all day, and I could feel it. Normally, I would have wanted to cook for everyone, but for my first night back, I just wanted to be with my family, and spending time with my daughter and, from the overview Casey had given me, the boy who would be my not-really-nephew nephew sounded about as close to perfect as I could get given my fucked up life.

But, that's the difference between the terminally wealthy and the middle and lower classes. My life was fucked up in a mob lawyer Hollywood sort of way. Most people's lives were fucked up in an abusive relationship, poverty, or some combination therein sort of way. Me? There were kids watching _The Godfather _wanting the perks of being an elite working for the Mafia. I didn't know where Malachai stood in the pecking order, but I wasn't stupid. It was high enough. And, I was his personal pet project. Or, at least, the one with the law degree. I was probably one of many, and with his penchant for paying of prosecutors, we were all screwed. Our own team had turned against us. I didn't know who on my side to trust. Getting out was going to be a game of smarts, and if I was outsmarted, my whole family would pay the price.

Temperance crawled into my lap with a book, and as I read to her, Matthew joined us, fist in his mouth, curious, sticky fingers pointing at the pictures. As I read, I cried. I fought allowing the tears to enter my voice, and neither child looked at me except when I wiped my tears away as they reached my chin. "Momma?"

"Momma's just happy to see you, Baby Girl. Momma's pretty silly, huh?" I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, my face pressed against her hair. "Can you find the doggie in the picture?" I asked, kissing the part in her hair between her pigtails. I glanced up to find Casey standing over me with two plastic bowls.

"Why don't you two go to the table?" Casey addressed the children, her eyes still on mine. I squeezed them shut in an effort to block the tears. I wanted to scream. What had I done? I would have rather the Marshals arrest me. And, while I couldn't have guaranteed Malachai wouldn't have hurt Casey just for thrills, he would never have been able to hold her over my head if I hadn't returned to New York. He was banking on me to think with my heart over my head, and, foolishly, I had. It would kill me to be so far from Casey, but it would kill me if he hurt her, too.

Casey strapped Temperance and Matt into their respective chairs, and I stood back and watched, still as stone, until Casey was done. She pressed a hand carefully against my stomach and pushed me back to the living room, the two toddlers already chowing down on their dinners. "Alex, talk to me, honey. Please?" She wiped the tears from my cheeks, taking my hand in hers. "Honey, I love you. You can tell me anything, and it's not going to change."

I hesitated before answering. "They're so beautiful, Casey. Temperance is beautiful. You're beautiful. Matt is so precious. You're amazing for everything you've done for him and his parents. I wish I had been there so you didn't have to do this alone."

"It's okay, Alex. It really is."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's not."

Casey smiled softly. "You're right, okay. It's not okay. It's tragic, it's painful, it's emotional. But, the important part is that you're able to be here now, and you are. I know why you were gone, Alex, and I accepted that as part of my life when I insisted on keeping you in my life, in our daughter's life. I want a life with you, and I would think that after today, you want a life with me. Hell, Alex, we deserve a happily ever after, don't you think? We fought against all odds, faithfully. That's not to say we're perfect and didn't make mistakes, but that's to be expected. If we were perfect at this, we could just die right here. I truly believe we're here to learn, that our souls have to learn something in this lifetime, and I know you don't believe in souls, Alex, but I do. And, you've taught me what it means to love, and you've brought me closer to God and faith than any priest or nun ever has or will. I look into your eyes, and I swear I can touch heaven."

Wrapping her arms around me, Casey pulled me against her. I lay my head on her shoulder, inhaling her scent. It had changed having two children around the house. She smelled like Play-doh and Silly Putty, but deep beneath it was a warm vanilla. I craved her. Loosely, I draped my arms around her and sighed. "We've both made mistakes, Alex. I know I've made plenty. But, that should never detract from our futures. We survived all of this. We can survive so much more. But, right now, let's live in the moment, our moment. This, Alex, this is us, and I have dreamed of nothing more."

For several minutes, I just stood there, letting her hold me. I didn't cry. She didn't protest. A tiny tug at my pants made me turn, though, and look down. "Yes?" I said, smile crossing my face.

"I full," Matt said, handing me his bowl. "Tem sleep."

I took the bowl, but it was Casey who said, "Okay, honey. Go pick out a blanket and a movie. Aunties will be over in a minute to put it in." Unsure, I watched Casey put the bowl in the sink before attending to Tee. She checked her mouth, presumably for food, and picked her up, rocking her.

"Tired girl," I commented.

Casey shrugged. "She was diagnosed with epilepsy around Easter. Beyond that, they don't know about her developmental problems except that she has them."

"Her speech seemed okay."

"She has good days and bad days. Some days, she seems to be progressing really well. Then, suddenly, she'll regress in her pathology, throw extreme tantrums that are outside of her usual nature, have nightmares." She shook her head. "No one knows what it is."

"Oh," I said, holding my hands out, taking the toddler from my fiancee and rocking her. I hummed as I moved while Casey started the movie I had neglected to put in before the kids had dinner.

Sitting on the couch, sleeping three year old on my chest and stomach, wife resting her head on my shoulder, and 'nephew' laying on her leg and hip, watching a movie just seemed to be right where I wanted my life. It was no where near where I had imagined it. I had wanted to do so much more before I settled down, but after I met Casey, it seemed like that was simply not in my stars.

I lay my arm across her shoulders, and she turned her head to look up at me. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, stretching herself up to kiss me.

_That night was the first night I slept soundly in what felt like months, years, even. I held Casey against me, my face buried in her hair which was longer than it was when I had first met her, though she had consistently kept it the same length since the Connors trial. I hardly woke up when Temperance crawled in bed with us. Matt's parents, Jake and Maddie, had picked him up around eight o'clock. Little guy was out like a light, and slept as his mother picked him up and carried him to the door where Casey walked them down the stairs. I still had a three year old asleep on top of me, and moving was getting impossible. Mostly because I wanted to savor every moment, but I also didn't want to wake her. _

_They were like us, I thought, finding themselves unexpectedly parents, though Jake was Matt's biological father. For obvious reasons, I was not Temperance's. But, otherwise, their love story had to overcome their own obstacles, and they were fighting for their futures, too. They had to fight to see each other because Maddie's father was apparently not as accepting as Jake's that he was a grandfather. Rather, I should say, that according to Jake, Maddie's father did not believe he was good enough for his daughter. I had asked him if, honestly, he thought he was. He reminded me of a hoodlum version of me, though, when he answered, 'Nobody is good enough for Maddie.' _

_They were both good kids. Jake was taking a break from school so Maddie could go to college which I thought was very thoughtful of him. He worked two jobs, and Maddie worked part time on top of going to school. Casey had forewarned me that she was paying for Matt to attend the same school Temperance was and to not bring it up because Jake was adamant that he would pay her back. She didn't want him to, and neither did I, quite frankly. Casey was too good to be true as far as I was concerned. The kids were both in the daycare program at the school, but Temperance would start their preschool program in August where Matt would not start until the January session. More likely than not, Temperance would have to have a special education program geared towards her swings if they continued. I hoped she would grow out of them, but if she didn't, if that was just her nature, then we would deal with it. No big deal. _

"What's wrong, Baby?" Casey whispered, and I strained in the dark to hear. It sounded as though Temperance was sobbing, and the sound broke my heart. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Temperance crawled over Casey and lay between us. I kissed her cheek. "It's okay, Sweetie. We've got you. We'll protect you. No more scary dreams."

Tee cuddled up next to me, one leg over my stomach. Any other person, I would have thought that they would be uncomfortable, but knowing how Casey slept, I was not surprised that her own flesh and blood would throw herself awkwardly around. I ran my fingers through her hair as she burrowed against me, one hand clutching my shirt and the other clutching Casey. It was adorable, and I didn't have any problem falling asleep. I felt warm and wanted and at peace. I could have slept through New York City crumbling if it meant Temperance and Casey were sleeping with me.

It was actually kind of nice. I was an idiot for putting myself in a situation where the brotherhood could hold my family over me, but I felt like it was almost worth it. As long as I kept my head down with the brotherhood, then nothing bad would happen to my wife and daughter. I could do this. I was a Cabot, damn it. I was a god damn mother fucking Cabot. I could do this.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: You guys make me smile. Alone time for the grown ups. Uh huh. Pervs. XD As always, thanks for the reads and the reviews. **

I woke up the next morning clinging to the edge of the bed with the majority of the covers somewhere else. Opening my eyes, I glanced over the bed to find Casey on the opposite side of the mattress in a very similar predicament and I couldn't help but smile. Who knew a pint sized someone could take up so much room? I had heard rumors, but they had never before been confirmed by personal experience. Gently, I moved Temperance until she was back in the middle of the bed before stuffing my pillow along her back hoping to deter her from rolling off the bed as I sat up and watched my two girls sleep. Maybe it was a little creepy, but I couldn't help but marvel at the human condition. A human being, as with any animal, was not likely to sleep unless it felt safe enough to do so or had carried itself to exhaustion. Sleep was one of the most vulnerable states any animal could be in, and that the two of them were out cold meant something. It actually meant something rather important as far as I was concerned. Then again, I knew how unsafe it was.

Casey's eyes fluttered as she woke. They always did. It was her tell. She had tried to pretend to sleep around me a couple of times before, knowing that I was watching her, but I had known. She stared up at me with a small smile. "Good morning," I whispered. She yawned, looking between me and the baby. I leaned over, brushing her cheek with the backs of my fingers. "Waking up here, with you, makes me think there might be a God out there somewhere, answering prayers."

"My little atheist is finding religion," she purred with a smile.

"Only around you," I answered.

_For the next two days, Casey went to work, and I kept both kids at the apartment with me. Well, the apartment, the art museum, the children's museum, the parks, Central Park zoo, the aquarium, and the movies. For two days, I ran around the city with them, turning them loose in the same way my nanny had turned me loose when I wasn't sick. As a child, I had absorbed everything, and I watched Matt and Tee do the same thing with 'what this?' questions to everything we saw. I got to see their self esteem as they begged me to 'watch this' as they spun in circles, climbed ladders at the park, and blew bubbles from the bubble wand. _

_By Friday evening, when we met Casey at the subway station by the District Attorney's office, Matt was asleep in his stroller, and Temperance was laying on the bench, her head in my lap, dozing on and off. I had sent Casey a text message to let her know we were there. It was only five thirty, and I hoped to be able to take them somewhere kid friendly for dinner because after, Jake and Maddie had agreed to watch the kiddos at their apartment as long as I needed them to watch Temperance. I was incredibly grateful, but it was Maddie who looked at me with eyes that said she wanted to be like me. She had even said once that she wished she were as dedicated as I was. I had told her that I thought she was, even more so, perhaps. But, that was an argument for another day. The kid was a sweetheart, and I didn't wish anyone would be like me, to be cold and bitter inside. I hoped she would always stay warm and sweet and kind. _

"That's precious," Casey said as she sat down beside me. "You wore them out."

"The feeling is mutual," I said, kissing her lightly. "How was work?"

"Jury came back," she said with a goofy smile. "Guilty on all counts. I was so relieved."

I grinned. "I'm not surprised; you're a great prosecutor, Casey."

Temperance stirred on my lap. "Mommy," she said, sitting up, crawling over me to sit on Casey's lap, her arms wrapped around her mother's neck. "Miss you, Mommy."

"I missed you all day, too, Tem. Did you have fun with Momma and Matt?" The little girl nodded. "Oh? What did you do?"

As Temperance started babbling able the fish she had seen at the aquarium and feeding pigeons in the park, I stood up and stretched, nodding my head to the subway platform. The crowd was the normal after work crowd, and it was noisy and busy, and our train was due to arrive in just a few minutes. Getting on would be nice. I was due to Malachai's Saturday afternoon for some kind of meeting he had called, but Friday night belonged to me and Casey exclusively.

We wiggled onto the train, Casey finding herself a seat and me clinging to the rail by the seat so that I didn't lose track of her as more people packed on. It felt good to be home. I laughed as Tee clapped her hands together as she explained the puffer fish she had seen balloon up at the aquarium. Leaning my head against my hand on the rail, I smiled. "This is right," I said as Casey looked up at me.

"Yes," Casey answered, nodding her head. "This is absolutely right."

As we exited our stop the change trains, someone grabbed my arm. "Here, I think you dropped this," the man said as I turned around. He handed me a folded piece of paper. I considered telling him that I hadn't dropped anything, but Casey was waiting for me at the platform, and there was something in his tone that suggested that while I did not know him, he knew me. My heart jumped into my throat at the idea, and I nodded, taking the paper.

"Thank you,"I said, tucking it into my pocket as I deboarded, my hand finding Casey's as she scooped Temperance onto her hip.

Casey watched the man walk behind us and trot up the stairs with some suspicion. I could see why. We had been so busy living our lives in fear. Me of the cartel and now the brotherhood, her of Jesse. It was just natural to be suspicious. Plus, we were in New York. "What did he want?"

"I dropped my shopping list," I lied, cringing internally for doing it. "I need to pick up some food for the apartment. You've been living off canned soup and microwave meals again."

Shrugging, Casey sighed. "It happens."

"Let me be your live in chef," I teased, squeezing her hand in mine a little possessively as I fought to not look behind us and make sure the man had stayed up the stairs. Fortunately, our train was only a couple of minutes from arriving, and I could stop looking over my shoulder as much. Though, now, I was suspicious of everyone. Good people, I realized, don't stay good long in the brotherhood. I would be turned, if from nothing but paranoia alone. Fuck.

Shaking her head, Casey laughed. "You can be my live in anything you want, Alex," she murmured.

"Good," I said with a soft smile, bringing her hand to my lips, kissing the backs of her fingers. "Go out with me tonight? On a date. We haven't had enough of them." Casey's eyes danced between the two children. "I'm taking all of you out tonight to dinner, just pizza and gelato, but something these two will eat, then Maddie and Jake offered to keep Tee for a while so I could just take you out."

Her brows went up. "Really? What were you thinking?"

I just smiled, shrugging. "You'll have to agree to the date and find out, won't you?"

My Casey blushed the color of her hair. "Something fun? Like when you took me bowling."

"Did you have something in particular in mind, Casey?" I asked, combing my fingers through her hair.

She flushed a deeper red. Every time I thought she couldn't blush any harder, there she went, turning new shades of red that I had never even seen before. "Casey," I said as she was quiet. "What do you want to go do?"

"Nothing, it's silly."

I smiled. "Oh, honey, no it's not. What?"

I would swear that she turned ever more red before she hid her face in Temperance's jacket. Poking her with my index finger, I harrassed her until she looked up again, still no less red than she had been before. "What do you know about New York's gay scene?" she asked me, her voice so soft that I had to strain to hear over the noise inside the cart.

"Gay scene?" I asked, just to be certain. She nodded. "What do you know?" I turned the question back on her with an air of suspicion.

"Next to nothing," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the floor. I knew she still had difficulties with what it meant for her to have fallen for a woman. At least, she knew it was a biochemical engineering. At least now, too, she accepted herself for it. I remembered when it had been such a struggle for her that I had actually been concerned.

Chuckling, I traced her jaw line. "You wanna go to a true blue gay club tonight?" She nodded. "Not quite what I had planned, but I think I like it better. Alright, we'll go hang out with our fellow sinners. I look forward to getting you on the dance floor, anyway."

"You dance?" she asked, looking up at me, eyes wide in surprise.

I smiled down at her. "Casey, I lived in Romania as a teen. Of course I dance." The wheels in my head set to turning. It wasn't too difficult to believe that Casey had not explored the gay side to New York in my absence despite Kale's presence in her life. Kale was a little like me, she was somewhat more uptight than most people. But, I knew the clubs and the bars and the crowds, though it had been a few years. I wondered if people I remembered would remember me. Mostly, I dated under the radar until Casey. And, even then, that was mostly under the radar. We didn't exactly tell everyone we knew we were dating. It was limited to a select few. In part because I was dead, but even now that I was no longer deceased, we still didn't say much. I suspected that we wouldn't. Outside of Olivia and Casey's brothers and the brotherhood, it was unlikely people would find out. It would be kept hush hush at work because the last thing either of us needed was that ordeal.

"When was the last time you danced?" I asked her as the seat beside her emptied and I flopped gracelessly into it.

She sighed. "Before I knew I was gay?" she answered. "No, not true. Okay, it was the Halloween after we met. I went to my friend Matty's Halloween Bash. He and his wife put on one every year. I danced with some sleazy CEO big shot who got too clingy for his own good. Kale rescued me by pretending to be my lover. Turned out, we were both gay, but I was too preoccupied with thinking of you to know what I was doing."

I grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Kale told me you flirted with her." We both knew this, and neither of us minded, least of all me. If Casey wanted to move on, I wanted her to move on, even if that meant moving on from me. Though, now that we were engaged, that would probably crush me. I had once sworn that I would never give myself so completely, heart and soul, but that had gone to the wayside. It seemed like it went further and further to the wayside every time Casey batted her pretty green eyes at me. The amount of control she had over my heart was phenomenal. Between her and Temperance, I was a complete goner.

All the same, Casey lightly punched my arm. "Meanie," she grumbled. "I was confused."

"I know. It's what I do, confuse people." I grinned.

She looked at me again, careful to catch my eyes. I held her green ones with my gray, just on the edge of falling into her eyes. They were so enchanting. No wonder I was at a loss when we argued. Nothing truly monumental had really come up that we had not been able to work through, but if something did and we couldn't work through it, all she would have to do would be to look at me, blink that long, innocent Casey blink, and I would roll over to whatever she wanted. I was such a sucker for anything adorable Casey did. She had me completely wrapped around her finger, and Temperance was the same way. I had spent the last two days absolutely wrapped around my daughter's finger, and she could manipulate Momma like no other. "I'm glad you confused me."

I laughed, the train slowing as it approached the platform we needed to exit on. Standing, I pushed the stroller, Matt still out cold, off onto the platform, checking behind me for someone I didn't know who would stop me again. I hadn't looked at what was on the piece of paper in my pocket. I was kind of dreading it to be honest, but I would need to check it before the meeting on Saturday. If it was something I needed to be aware of, then I needed to be aware of it. Somehow, I just doubted Malachai tolerated incompetence.

"Tee-tee," I murmured, wrapping my arm around Casey's waist as she carried our daughter. "You hungry?"

"Yea," the little girl answered, nodding.

"Want pizza?"

She nodded. "'Za," she repeated with a huge grin, suddenly looking more awake as she held on to Casey's neck.

_It probably shouldn't have, but it did. It surprised me how much I enjoyed this whole family thing. I had been at it for less than a week, but it was already like having a dream come true. I started work again the upcoming Monday, but for that evening, I didn't focus on what would be coming, only on what was as Matt picked every pepperoni off his slice of pizza, eating it before he picked off the cheese and ate that, too. Temperance handed me the knife, waiting until I cut her pizza into tiny, bite sized pieces before eating them awkwardly with her fork. I had laughed at her antics. She was just too sweet. _

_Every moment, I was more and more proud of Casey, of everything she had done as the single mother, even with help from our SVU family. I remembered when she had been so worried that she would not be a good mother because of Temperance's paternal parentage and the circumstances surrounding her conception. The gang rape had nearly destroyed Casey, and I had been able to see her begin to put herself back together, though I had disappeared before I could see her grow even more. Now, though, three years later, she did not feel that she was wholly healed, but it didn't take a genius to realize how much she had grown. _

_We left the kids with Maddie and Jake, talking with them briefly. They were more than happy to watch Tee for us while I took Casey out. In fact, I think that Jake's exact words were 'it's about damn time someone took Casey out.' And, it was, but I still felt bad about not being able to be there for her for so long. I was pretty much game to make it up to her in any way she would let me, though I knew she had said multiple times that I had nothing to make up to her. It didn't stop me from wanting to make her happy. She deserved nothing less. _

_We left the children in the capable care of the two teens to return to the apartment and change. Casey was still dressed like an attorney, and I was wearing jeans with pizza sauce on them courtesy of the children and a shirt that definitely said I had been playing with kids all day. There were still finger print imprints on the sleeves from someone grabbing my sleeve, hands covered in purple finger paints. We both needed to change into something more appropriate for clubbing, an activity I didn't participate in much since my appointment as an ADA. Though, I doubted Casey was in any sort of a different boat. There was a certain image to uphold as an ADA that clubbing did not usually entail. Still, I had plans to take her to some of the more classy clubs as well as the exclusive ones that would actually need my name to get in. Ah, memberships._


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Pervs. XD I mean that in a good way. Interlude number one in this story. I guess since you've been Casey-Alex bunny fest deprived for 14 chapters, you deserve something. :) Thanks for the reads, as always. **

I took her out to the normal gay clubs first, the ones that I wasn't particularly fond of. They were filled too much with young or immature people. Even those attendees my age, in their mid thirties drove me up the wall with their sheer lack of maturity. Maybe it was just because I was accustomed to places a little more dark and intimate, but even Casey seemed to crinkle her nose at the club less than an hour after we walked in. It was a little before eleven when she turned to me. "I don't understand the appeal."

Laughing, I pulled her against me, holding her close to me. I loved being the same height as she was because she fit me absolutely perfectly. Every curve of her body fit entirely into mine, and it was fantastic. "Neither do I, ma petite, but you asked to see the gay scene in this city."

"Show me your scene," she demanded, twisting in my arms, her hands finding my cheeks. "If this isn't where you hang out, what you do, then I don't want to be here because, Al, it's not my thing, either. I'm not-" She gestured around her to people with drinks in their hands, hiding in dark corners, boys kissing boys, women with their hands up the shirts of other women. Oh, yes, it was a gay club, but it was a club in the city most of all.

I pushed her hair from her face, my lips dangerously close to her ear. It felt good to have my breath hot on her ear again, to inhale the soft scent of the soap she had used when she showered before we left. "Laisse-moi toi montrer l'intimité de la ville."

I felt her smile against my cheek. "Or just you," she murmured. "I'm always game to see the intimate side of you." She kissed along my jaw. "Tu me comprends?"

"Mmhm, I do," I muttered. "And, maybe later. I have a better place for us to go. Wanna come?"

She nodded, and I took her hands, pulling her through the crowd and out the door. It didn't take much time to hail a cab. I gave the cab driver the address to a hole in the wall that I had adored in the last lifetime I had lived.

"Where are you taking me?" Casey asked, wrapping her foot around my ankle.

I smiled. "Radish. Corny name, but when you meet the owner, you'll understand."

I paid for the cab, leaving us standing in front of a building that, from the outside, looked dark. More than just a hole in the wall, I loved the place because it was incognito. Knocking on the door in the alley, I held Casey against me.

"Talk about private," she murmured. "I'm a little nervous."

I laughed as a blond woman opened the door, her blue eyes dancing over both of us. "Alex?" she questioned, opening the door and dancing out into the alley, hugging me. "Oh, God, I thought you were dead. The newspaper said you were dead."

"Lacey," I squealed, hugging her back. "You don't even want to know. Mm. Mm. Meet Casey, my wife. She wants to know my hang outs from before she settled me down."

Lacey turned around and practically jumped Casey. "Oh my God. Someone domesticated Alex?"

Casey's eyes were wide and I could see her struggling to not push Lacey away. I pulled the blond off her. "Lace, she's not really the touchy type."

"Neither were you. I broke you of that."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you old enough to drink yet?" I asked her. She punched me, the same way that Casey punched me when I said something ridiculous. "Are you even twenty yet?"

"Twenty one, bitch! You wanna see Kimberly?"

"Your sister still owns the place? Thank God. At least there's still some class in the nightlife in the city. Can I give Casey the grand tour?"

Lacey held the door open. Tradition had a guard at the door, though it was really more a formality now than anything. That, and Lacey enjoyed it. There were a lot of women from the high social classes that came in through the club. Lacey and Kimberly were sisters from a wealthy family. Kim bought the club from another woman when she was barely twenty one. That was the difference between Kim and Lacey. Kim was a business woman who could also please her clientele. Lacey, bless her heart, acted her age – though, there was nothing wrong with that. She didn't know what she wanted in her life, either. Not that I blamed her. Lacey was interested in everything. "Save the basement room for last. Kim just redid the theme. I think it's right up your alley."

"Oh?" I purred, my eyebrows raising in Casey's direction. "That'll be fun. We'll start top down. Does Kim have all three levels open, then?"

"Yup."

I dragged Casey up the stairs to the third floor. The stairs were fantastic, painted cream with low lights, many turned off for the night, turned on only in emergency or after the club closed. "The top floor is a bar, booth, and outdoor area. There's a fire place outside that Kim's always got on. It's gorgeous," I said as I pushed the door open. The upper floor was lit internally by flickering lighting, turned low. It looked like the floor was entirely cast by candle light.

The bar was round and directly in the center of the room, accessible from all sides, stools pushed up around it, women scattered here and there, some single, some couples, and some groups. Every single one of them was either from a high socio-economic or political background, or they knew enough people who were to blend in to the crowd. The music on the floor was modern, neither low nor loud which always impressed me. Whomever it was that controlled the music did a phenomenal job. A few women were dancing on a small floor, but most were mingling. Against the back wall, there was a large, dark green couch that wrapped around in a half circle, a large, short table, a fire place with a warm fire jumping around nearby.

The tour led outside to wrought iron patio furniture, an outdoor, open fire. Other than light chatter, there was no music outside which suited the atmosphere perfectly. From the outside, the rooftop was not visible from the ground except, occasionally, the glow of the fire when a new log was added. "Do you want something to drink?" I asked Casey as we returned inside, her body huddled close to mine from the cold.

"Whiskey, straight," she murmured against me.

I started. "You drink alcohol now?" I mused.

Biting her lip, Casey shrugged. "I don't have to supply food from my body to a minor," she teased, kissing my collar bone. I snickered, ordering her drink and mine from the bar tender. Her fingers closed around the tumbler as I handed her the drink. "Thank you. Main level? I am kind of looking forward to the basement, Alex."

I took the center stairway down to the second floor. It was a beautifully done open spiral staircase that connected the main and upper levels near the bar. The décor downward was artistic and modern, leading to the second level which was equally open and artistic. It catered to a more playful atmosphere. The dance floor on the main level was much larger. Initially, it had been the largest dance floor in the building, but I couldn't say with certainty because I didn't know what the lowest level looked like any longer. Most of the women that were on the main level were dancing or flitting between the dance floor and the bar on that level. The noise level was considerably louder, and I did not know how Kim kept the noise from one floor from penetrating the others, but she did, and I thought it was fantastic.

Casey looked at me, eyes wide. I smiled. Sometimes, I forget how long she spent in an abusive relationship. I realized she probably had very little experience with any kind of club, never mind a gay club, or, in this case, Radish catered particularly to women. She shook her head, one hand pressing over an ear, and I grabbed that hand, tugging her back to the side stairwell we had initially gone up.

"Still makes you nervous?" I asked once we were in the safety of the stairwell.

"A little," she said, turning bright red.

I kissed her nose. "Okay, then let's head down one flight. If Lacey's right and it's something I'll like, it won't be very loud or crowded down there."

Sure enough, it wasn't. The décor was darker, rich reds and mahogany dominating. There were actual candles burning from holders on the walls which produced the most lighting, though a few hanging lamps over the bar illuminated that area. Even still, it was dark. The music was more classical, and I realized that if I would ever run into an ex, this would be the place it would happen. There was something dark and sensual about the mood on the floor, an undercurrent of power. Private booths lined the walls, and the dance floor was less a dance floor and more of a stage, though there were no theater performances at that moment. I wondered if Kim was diving into the performing arts. I would have to ask her. Lacey was right, though. The floor fit me perfectly.

"I like this," Casey murmured into my ear, resting her head against me as I pulled her into a nearby open booth. She fell into my lap like she belonged there, and I kissed her temple. "Not too many people. I may have to work up to being on the main level. I like the rooftop, though."

I smiled, plucking her drink from her fingers and setting it beside mine. "That's because you like personal, private moments. You don't like to share your sexuality with a crowd."

Twisting, Casey looked up to me. "Neither do you," she said. "I'm surprised you felt comfortable on that floor."

"Comfortable? Kind of. But, not at home. I don't pick that style of dancing usually. This is where I used to come, back when. Kim's a good friend of mine. She hooked me up with some women in the past, but she'll get a real kick out of you."

"Why me?" the red haired attorney nestled between my legs asked, picking up her drink and sipping like she were too unfamiliar with alcohol any more to stand it.

I stroked her hair, absently braiding it. "Because you're the river that settled my wildfire."

"Were you really that way?"

"A player?" I asked, grinning cheekily. Casey considered this before nodding. "Yes. I was. I never cheated, Casey, but I bounced from woman to woman. I used to like the chase more than the date." I ran my nails slowly down her arms. She shivered automatically.

"What about now?"

I laced my fingers in her free hand, bringing her hand to my lips as I kissed her white, white fingers. "Now, I have you. You're the only woman I'll ever chase."

"You don't need to chase me," Casey purred. "You have me."

"To have and to hold until death does us part?" I teased.

She smiled, catching my lips briefly. "Yes," she said between kisses. "Absolutely yes."

"You sure?" I asked, raising my brow. I was still playing.

She looked at me and laughed. "For Christ's sake, Alex," she murmured into my ear, "I've already said yes a hundred times. What more do you want from me?"

"Once more," I purred. "From you, always once more."

"Il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie," she murmured, pausing, her eyes meeting mine.

"C'est d'aimer et d'être aimé," I finished, tapping her nose once with my finger.

"I love you," she said with a shrug. "You love me. What more do I need to be happy, Alex?"

I danced my nails up her sides and back down her arms for a moment in silence, feeling her breathing change as she lay back against me. She stopped all together when I ran my nails over her rib cage. "Nothing," I murmured, "so long as you are happy."

I pulled her closer to me in our little booth as I looked out at the floor. The music had changed to something a little more steppy, a rumba if I still remembered my music, and there were a small handful of couples dancing. Pressing my hand flat against her stomach, I played my fingers at the waistline of her skirt. "Casey," I mumbled, "did you ever masturbate while I was gone?" We had established that she couldn't date or sleep with anyone else while I was holed up in some corner of the earth, but I genuinely wondered if she had ever touched herself. It was a curious phenomena among several of my Catholic friends, that the idea of masturbation was something so completely outrageous and not done, and I could distinctly remember Casey telling me that she had been raised that it was simply not something a lady did.

She stiffened as I ran my finger over the tiny scar left behind from the C-section three years prior, shivering as I ran my fingers over her hip bones. "No," she whimpered, pressing her face into my neck as my fingers glided over somewhat innocent parts of her body in time to the music. It was a rumba, and that made me smile. Only Kim could combine something aesthetically Gothic with something musically Latin and come up with a money making idea.

"Not even once?" I teased, combing her hair over her face. I could feel the warmth of embarrassment in her cheeks as she shook her head. I wasn't really surprised, but it was kind of fun to tease her as she shifted for comfort. I loved how she reacted. I hadn't even touched or done anything expressly sexual, and she was already writhing. It was always like that with her, her entire body catching flame. I imagined that David would have been able to please her had he listened to her body, as would anyone else. Getting a rise out of Casey Novak was like melting butter. Not too much heat, and not too little, could turn her into a puddle, and she had no idea how much it meant to me that I was the only one allowed to do that to her. In all reality, it kind of stroked my ego that she didn't even do it to herself. I had grown up in a sexual world, a teenager off alone. I may not have caused trouble, but I was not a saint. I had my adventures and my mishaps.

Casey bit lightly against my neck repeatedly, as though trying and failing to grasp enough of my skin in her mouth to truly bite down. I played with one hand at her hip, curling the other hand around one wrist. I flipped her wrist over, running my thumb along her veins from memory before I brought her wrist to my mouth, biting it gently. Her breath was hot on my neck as she panted against me, twisting in a manner that told me she wasn't just looking to get comfortable any longer. So, I was a little less sexually conservative than I made out to be, but whatever.

"Don't make a sound," I whispered, my lips pressed up against her ear as she arched into me, the hand on her hip sliding to the outside of her thigh, still over the fabric of her skirt. She nodded against my neck, and I knew her eyes must have been closed because I could have sworn I could feel the fluttering of her eye lashes against my skin. That alone was an incredible turn on, and the rush made it difficult to maintain my own composure. She wasn't the only one who had been waiting to play. I had last been beneath Adam, and that held absolutely no sexual pleasure for me despite his genuine intentions. I bit, nibbled, and licked at her wrist, my nails raking over her clothing suggestively as I met the eyes of one of my long time personal friends with a grin.

Kimberly shook her head. _Let the poor creature go,_ she mouthed, crossing her arms. She had long brown hair and dark, Native skin, every bit the opposite of her sister. Then again, both girls had been adopted into the family. Neither one looked like the parents that had raised them.

I kept Casey pressed to me, my fingers dancing over her shirt, pulling it up slightly to expose skin white as fresh snow. _Define, _I challenged, my word still ever silent.

_Either stop, or let her orgasm. You'll kill her, Cabot. _Casey, for her part, was biting her lip so hard I thought she was going to make it bleed in her efforts to not make noise. She wasn't usually a noisy partner, but we both knew the sounds she made when she simply couldn't hold back any longer. I was going off a theory that she yelped when she came no matter the circumstance, and in telling her to stay quiet and her choosing to remain quiet, she was unable to release the necessary amount of control she needed to orgasm. I shrugged at Kim and caught Casey's mouth in mine, sucking the breath from her throat the same way I used to swallow her screams when she had nightmares.

When she opened her eyes, I could tell she was still tingling with need, but the discomfort could wait. I just smiled. "Why'd you stop?" she mumbled into my mouth.

"Casey, dear, meet Kim. She owns the place." I broke the kiss and nodded to my friend as she sat down in the booth across from us.

Instantly, Casey was redder than a fire engine, and even in the dark atmosphere, I could see how brightly she had turned. "I- I'm, fuck."

Kimberly laughed, the sound a deep roll. Once upon a time ago, I could have dated her, but once I got to know her, I had learned that would have been impossible. We were two wild souls headed in two different directions. We fanned each other's flames and grew destructive when left too long alone together. Not emotionally or personally destructive, but genuinely destructive. "It's okay, Casey. Alex is a-" She paused, looking for the right word. "Tease. She set you up." Her eyes met mine. "Didn't you, Cabot?"

"Guilty," I murmured.

Casey groaned in my lap. "Fine, but that doesn't change my expectations for later thanks to that preamble." She flushed slightly, looking to Kim. "Uh, sorry."

Kim waved her hand. "I don't care. Just don't be messy. Or get the police called. Are you still an ADA?" She nodded her head at me.

I nodded. "Bureau Chief, homicide. Casey's with SVU."

"Oh dear God, two attorneys. Just what this establishment needs."

I laughed. "You have plenty of attorneys upstairs, Kimberly. Go take your pick."

Kim stuck her tongue out at me. "Perhaps I will. Play nice, Alex. You wouldn't want to scare Casey away." She winked at me. I just rolled my eyes. Kim glided away from the table to leave us alone, though she was as much an imp as I was. She knew precisely what she was interrupting. I would get my own back; without a doubt, I would get my own back.

I trailed my fingers over Casey's neck to see how much damage Kim had done, or rather, undone, and was pleased for find that Casey straightened out, her breath stopping. There was a point of no return for Casey, I had long since learned, and if I could reach it, I could keep her going all night on a tease. "What do you think about the place?" I asked.

"I wanna go home," she groaned, her voice deep and husky once more. I caught her eyes in the low lighting, marveling for just an instant at how the lust in her eyes could invoke the same response from my own body before I kissed her, forcing her to kneel on the booth to keep contact.

"Home it is," I breathed, my own body tingling in anticipation.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: For your patience for two days, the rest of the perviness. It's short, but that's because the entire chapter is perviness. There is absolutely no point to this chapter except to satisfy all the little pervs involved in this story. :) And, hey, I never said that didn't include me! Just reiterating the M rating. You shouldn't be reading this chapter if you're under 17. And, if you are and you do, don't tell me! Lalalalala, I can't hear you! Anyway, enjoy. It's a lull. I can't say precisely when, but I've got some Bratva stuff planned and some... dun dun... Conviction based drama planned for our lovely Miss Cabot. **

**As always, thanks for the reads and the reviews. **

**Sorry, Loar, no French in this one. I put the French in the last one, though, with you in mind. :)**

The best part about Kim's place was that it was already uptown. It meant either a very short cab ride, or a moderate train ride. It was Casey, though, who dragged me to the subway as opposed to the cab. "You want to get arrested, don't you?" I teased, pulling her on my lap, nibbling at her ear, my hands roaming over her skirt clad thighs.

"Maybe a little," she murmured, shivering as I caught her carotid between my teeth, her pulse bounding in my mouth. I sucked until I was sure she would have a hickey, admiring the dark red mark that was left behind when I did let go. I wiggled my fingers between her skin and her shirt, dancing small circles as I found another spot on her neck to suck and nip. My mouth moved to her ear lobe, and I sucked at that, smirking as she writhed even against me. Fortunately or not, the subway car was almost empty. On the bright side, there were not too many witnesses to her antics. On the down side, everyone in the car was more than aware of what I was doing to her. I might not have been an exhibitionist per se, but part of me liked the whole public aspect.

At the second stop, Casey pushed my hands off her. "Dammit, Alex, it you keep this up, I won't make it home."

Grazing my nails over her arms again, I laughed. The lust was evident in the sound. "That's part of the point, Casey," I murmured. "I have you all to myself tonight. Call me greedy, but I want every moment of it."

She kissed me, her lips over mine as though she were trying to dominate me. I responded in kind, and, in the end, I controlled the kiss as her nails dug into my neck. I didn't care what the people around us thought about two people, specifically two women, kissing the way we were. We were like two school girls on a first time experiment, trying to see what it was like to literally eat each other.

At our stop, I followed her up the stairs, my arms wrapped around her waist, nibbling at her neck and upper back as we went. She laughed as I pushed her up against a wall on the street, and I ate her laugh as my lips found hers. My fingers were cold as they traveled between her shirt and her skin, right up her back and just under her bra to her rib cage, then down her stomach. She shivered, moaning softly, whimpering when my trail led over particularly sensitive areas. "Oh, God, yes," she purred, her back arching as I caught that one place between two ribs that really seemed to do things to her I didn't have the words for.

"Apartment. Now." Her voice was low and breathy, and I could tell she was on the verge of losing control. She grabbed at my hands, attempting to pull me towards our home, but I redirected her into the shadows of an alley. Unlike Denver, the alleys in New York were the vast opposite of even mildly clean. That didn't stop me from pressing her against the grate of a fire escape, our mouths completely occupied with the other's, my hands disappearing up her shirt, pushing her bra aside. At least in New York, I had some confidence in being able to do this without getting caught.

She cried out as my hands, fingers still cold to the touch, found her nipples. One of her hands grasped my hip bone, her nails digging into me. The other clawed at the fire escape behind her, trying and failing to grab on to the tiny iron pillars. I pulled my hands from her shirt and yanked her skirt up high enough that I could wiggle my thigh between her legs without her flashing the world. Grinding my body against her, I caught her center with my thigh. Even through her underwear and my pants, I could feel that she was hot and wet, and it was impossible not to grin when I kissed her, my fingers lacing in hers as I pressed her against the fire escape.

Pushing back against me, Casey whimpered. "Alex," she mewled. "It's been three years."

"I know," I growled back. "Believe me, Casey, I fucking know." I wasn't going to go into how turned on and horny I was. We had a habit of behaving like rabbits, but with a child in our bed, we had to tone that down. Actually, I think we had been on edge the first three nights, as though we would wake up and find that none of it was real. In fact, I still feared that I would wake up one morning back in Santa Fe, and I would never have met Casey. Or, worse, I would wake up in Adam's arms after crying in my sleep because of how unhappy I was. Now, I wasn't unhappy. I was so far from unhappy. I was actually happy when it came to my home life, my relationship with Casey, my relationship with my daughter, my work. The only thing I wasn't happy with was that I was working for the brotherhood. But, I could deal with that. Roses were not without thorns.

Casey's tug on my hair, her fingers woven through my curls, startled me, and I groaned. I rocked against her core as she whined, her fingers digging at the back of my neck. She was going to leave marks. We would both need turtle necks on Monday if we kept at it. "Apartment?" I teased, pulling away just enough to garnish her attention.

"No," she mumbled. "Dammit, Al-Alex." I rubbed my thumbs over her rock hard nipples through her shirt.

"What? Stuck?" I nibbled and sucked at her ear and neck until she was trembling just under my touch.

"I can't fucking walk," she panted. "Please, Alex. Please. I need this. I. Now. I. Need." She was barely able to get out one word with each breath.

"What do you need?" I asked, not letting up.

She fought to answer me, and I could see the concentration in her eyes as she tried and failed to focus. Her eyes glazed, and I watched her roll her eyes upwards, fluttering rapidly. Her nails dug into my back, pulling me against her. My mouth covered her neck, biting, sucking, and licking in that spot that made her whimper almost non-stop. Her whines turned into one low, long guttural groan. Dropping my leg so that she couldn't rub against me, I wedged her legs further apart, my fingers dancing along the hem of her skirt. "What do you need, Casey?" I murmured in her ear, my fingers dipping below her hem line and playing at the elastic band of her underwear.

She yapped, biting her lip, one hand on mine as she tried to force it further down her skirt. I pulled my hand back, resting it on her thigh. "Uh-uh. You gotta tell me."

"You," she whined. "Fuck it, Alex, I want you. In me. Now."

I kissed her hard, my fingers pushing aside her underwear, my middle finger sliding easily into her. She groaned into my mouth as I pressed the heel of my palm against her clit. I didn't have much room to move, but my memory of her body didn't betray me, and I found her pleasure spot quickly, not needing much room once I had her twitching and bucking against me.

In typical Casey fashion, she trusted me entirely with keeping her up because she lost control over her ability to stand. I had to admit, that was one of my favorite parts about having sex with her, that she gave herself up entirely to my control. That level of trust mystified me. I trusted her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but I had very rarely given her absolute control over my body. It wasn't her that I was worried about. It was someone else coming in, breaking in. I didn't know where the paranoia came from. I had no reason to think that it ought to be there, except, maybe that it was related to the night David broke into my house and nearly killed Casey. I hadn't loved her back then, but I was very well aware that even then, I was well aware of how much I could love her. Even with David pretty much permanently behind bars, I was still afraid of someone attacking at those most vulnerable moments.

I slept soundly, but I slept with one eye open. Just in case. Always just in case. Jesse was still out there. Not that I believed he was stalking Casey or even that he knew where she lived. He had the opportunity because of the case against David and his position with NCIS. After he lost his position and became a fugitive at large and the case closed, he lost his opportunity to get to Casey. She was probably safe from him. The brotherhood was not going to interrupt my private life so long as I cooperated with their needs regarding homicide.

I pulled her to me against the fire escape, sitting down on a comfortably high step, Casey in my lap, curled against me as she came down from the high of a long awaited orgasm. "Fuck," she whispered at my neck. "Oh, God. Alex. Fuck."

"We did," I teased, smiling into her hair. "Feel better?"

She nodded, holding on to me, kissing my neck. "And, I'll be completely content when I hear you screaming my name."

I laughed. "You've gotten cocky, haven't you?"

"I've always been cocky." She held my cheeks, kissing me. She was shaking in her hands, still, and there was something muscularly weakened about how she kissed me. I wrapped my hand around her head, holding her against me, pulling her closer to me by her hip. I rubbed my thumb in a circle on her hip, and she jerked against me. "Alex."

"Hm? You complaining that I can bring you down a notch, cocky lady?"

She laughed. "Apparently, I'm not the only one who's cocky." Pointedly, she looked around us, laughing again. "Middle of New York, honey?"

"Down an alley way, in public, following a public little escapade in a night club. Yea. What? You thought Denver was out of the norm for me?"

Shaking her head, Casey kissed me chastely. "I didn't realize it was the norm for you."

"The norm is whatever makes you quiver, wherever that happens to be." With a few obvious rules. "I think I like the risk of being caught."

"I still have so much to learn about you." She slid off me, sitting beside me, her hands linked in mine, head against my shoulder. "I'm looking forward to it, to learning every little bit about you over the years to come."

Stroking her hair, I trailed my hands over her shoulder and upper arm, absently running my nails over the fabric of her shirt. She groaned softly. "I can't wait," I murmured. "It's going to be fun. Not easy, but well worth it."

She looked up at me with bright green eyes, still content following her recent orgasm. Awkwardly, she smiled at me. "I love you, Alex." Her fingers grazed over the wet spot on my thigh from where I had been pressed against her. She brought her fingers to my lips, and I sucked them into my mouth, my tongue racing over them. Her breathing hitched as I sucked and licked at her fingers.

"I love you, too," I murmured, kissing the tips of her fingers before curling them into my lap. "I'm going to be honest. I want you all to myself all night long, but I want you without clothes. Where without clothes, I don't really care. But, I don't think you'll want to be here."

"Um, no." She shook her head, laughing. "Not unless your silver tongue can get us out of the back of a cop car because you know damn well I'm not quiet when you get me worked up."

I laughed. "I know. Oh, Case, do I know. And, to think, you thought you were maxed out when you were quiet."

"Turns out, you can knock me out cold. One of these days, I will figure out how to make you pass out." Her fingers found their way through my hair. "Mark my words, Alexandra Cabot, I will figure it out."

"I believe it," I purred, taking her free hand and kissing it. "Come on, let's get inside and warm."

"I'm plenty warm."

Smirking, I stood, pulling her up with me, pressing her hips against mine as I held her loosely. "I'm sure you are."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: As much as I'd love to tell you Jim Steele is not in this story, he is. I've pulled him out of character though. Mostly because I never did follow Conviction too closely and I would have a difficult time writing him in character. In part because from what I did follow, I thought he was whiny. And, a little because I didn't like that he had an affair with Alex. Not cool. My Alex. I mean... what? **

_As usual, neither of us slept that night. I was incredibly grateful for the thick walls in Casey's building, though. Our building. I did ask her if she thought I should get my own place, and she looked at me like I was crazy. It was kind of how I figured the conversation would go, but I wanted to be certain of it just in case. I would hate to be accused of something later because I didn't ask now. Maybe it was the attorney in me. Maybe it was my mother's influence, but it just felt better knowing that I had asked. At any rate, it took Casey well into the morning to convince me to let her breathe, and by the time I did, she was a quivering, huddled pool in the middle of the bed, twitching hard every time I touched her regardless of where I touched her. It was kind of fun, and, in Casey's words, having her react that way 'straight did it for me.' _

_I didn't think she quite understood how much it did it for me. I did like it when she turned tables. Without a doubt, she had become very skillful with her hands and her, uh, tongue. But, my favorite role was as the giver, less than the receiver. To be blunt, I received more when I gave. Not that I would say no, but it was more entertaining to me that I could reduce her to an exhausted puddle of Casey than anything else. It satisfied something much deeper inside me than any orgasm could, and I was discovering that about myself about as much as I was discovering that Casey didn't mind. In fact, she seemed to be along for the same ride I was. _

_It was nearly eight in the morning when I jumped in the shower, Casey out like a light, and rode the train down to Jake and Maddie's little place. It was the most adorable apartment ever, particularly for such a young couple and young parents. Jake was already up, and it was Tee who answered the door when I buzzed up that it was me. Maddie was awake and in the kitchen. She had left Jake asleep in the bedroom after he was called in late to one of his jobs and worked until the wee hours of the morning. I basically made her accept fifty dollars for watching Temperance all through the night. She tried to give me something about how Casey was already paying for Jake's schooling and she watched Jake all the time, and I had watched him Thursday and Friday. I merely pointed out that Casey was paying for that. I was the one handing her cash. She took it after I jokingly threatened to bring a law suit against her. _

_That afternoon, I ducked out, begging Casey's forgiveness as I told her I had a late lunch with a friend. She let me go with that perfect trust that is so rare in relationships and that made my heart break. She didn't ask who or where we would be or how long I would be gone. She just kissed me lightly and told me to have fun, to call if I needed anything. I was fucking blessed. I did not deserve such an amazing woman. After everything she had been through, that she could still trust like that, love like that, baffled me. Being loved by her made me think that God might have been real. She loved the way God was supposed to love, the good with the bad. The forgiveness she gave. Fuck, was I blessed. I didn't know what I had done right in my life, but it was something very special to be able to hold that woman against me and know that she loved me back just as much as I loved her. _

Tony picked me up at the sidewalk at the apartment. I didn't want to sneak around about it. I had told Casey that Tony would be picking me up. She knew him only as the person who had dropped me off. I think she just figured that he was someone I had known from my past life as Alexandra Cabot, and now that I was haunting back from the dead, we were still able to talk and be close. And, if that wasn't what she assumed, I think she knew I would eventually tell her. And, I realized, I would eventually have to lay it all out for her. The conditions of my release made me a criminal. Oh, help me, that was an ironic concept for a prosecuting attorney.

"You look nice," Tony said. I looked down at my sweatshirt and jeans before looking back at him like he was crazy. "You're a lean blond, Alex. You look nice in just about anything, but I'm betting you look best naked."

I hit hm. Hard. In the jaw. It took him completely off guard, and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Get in the fucking car, bitch," he barked, opening the back door and shoving me inside. Yelping, I fell over my feet and crawled in the back seat, tucking my legs under me before he closed the door on me. He didn't slam the door shut the way I thought he would. Instead, he crawled in the back with me, his hands clasped around my throat. "Don't you ever hit me again, do you hear me?"

Every word was accentuated by a shake, my head whipping back and forth, striking the door until I was seeing stars. "Tony," I rasped, clawing at his face. "Let. Go." I tried to kick at him, but his body was pressed against me, so heavy that I couldn't move. Oxygen deprivation kicked in, and it was just before I lost consciousness that I suddenly felt the weight move.

"Oh, Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Alex, you better be alive." He shook me which had the opposite effect of allowing me to breathe. Instead, it made it doubly difficult, and I couldn't quite move to try and pus him off. I was swimming in that place between conscious and unconscious, knowing that if I didn't breathe, I would slip into unconsciousness and eventually into death. "Alex, say something. Say something, bitch. Fuck. Damien's gonna kill me if you're dead."

I gasped in air as he stopped shaking me, the reaction somewhat more delayed than I had hoped. "Drive, you idiot," I snapped, rubbing my neck. "I want to get this fucking meeting over with." I curled in the back seat, trying to decide whether or not I would have bruises that would need to be explained. Casey was more than familiar with the marks strangulation provided, and I didn't want to cause her concern.

"Are you going to tell Malachai?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me like a whipped puppy.

I gave him an icy glare as he pulled away from the curb and into traffic. "Depends on my mood when we get there," I grumbled, buckling myself into the seat. I could have told Tony he could forget about it, that I wasn't going to the meeting, but somehow, I thought that would end even worse. So far, Casey wasn't in any more danger than she had been before I returned to New York. Nothing was really stopping Malachai from hurting her or our daughter, but my cooperation made it harder for him to use it as an excuse. That, and men of his kind tended to be men of their word. Sometimes literally which made him dangerous. But, what made him more dangerous was that he was simply a man of his word. If he said he would hurt Temperance and Casey if I refused to cooperate, then he would. What I had to figure out was how much bargaining power I had.

Arching my back, I pulled the paper I had been given on the subway from my pocket. They were the same jeans, paint stained with finger paints and everything. Malachai wasn't giving me his best, so he sure as shit didn't deserve mine. That, and I was his attorney at hire, not his whore, not his suit, not his anything else. I manipulated the law to suit his needs. What I wore was none of his concern, and if he wanted to concern himself over it, he could suck it as far as I was concerned. That was not part of the original bargain. If he wanted me to dress a particular way, he was going to have to provide me with a very good argument as to why I should comply.

Opening the paper, I stared down at the name. _Daniel Orr. _I was not familiar with the name, but I was going to put money on the fact that he was going to be a defendant on my docket. Groaning, I folded the paper again and tucked it into my pocket, crossing my arms. For something that wasn't supposed to happen often, starting my first day back at work was not a reassuring thought.

Tony parked and opened my door for me. I stepped out, wanting nothing more than to hug myself but knowing after what happened in the car earlier that any display of weakness was going to be detrimental. "Are you okay?" he asked me.

"Can you see the marks?" I asked, less than friendly in my tone. He examined my neck and shook his head. "Then, you might have just gotten lucky."

He nodded, swallowing, as he led me inside the house in the middle of Queens. I was sure Malachai had plenty of other houses and apartments, or the brotherhood had plenty, I should be more accurate. Whose house it was, I was unsure. The door opened before I knocked, and one of the older males from the other day smiled at me. "Alexandra."

I couldn't remember his name, so I said nothing, allowing my icy glare, the one reserved especially for child rapists, to settle against him. He chuckled. "You are exceptional, young lady. Come in. I will get you a drink."

"No thanks," I said as I stepped inside, wiping my feet on the mat. "I don't drink."

"Nonsense. Everyone drinks. You drink."

Not wanting to push my luck, I took the tumbler he pressed into my hands, my eyes scanning the room. There were only six people in the room other than the man who had led me inside, Tony, and myself. Malachai was there as were his two personal body guards. Another unfamiliar male was in the room, a little younger than I was, but not by much. My father, John Cabot, was there, too, and his bug eyes when he saw me walk into the room told me that they hadn't told him about me. I wanted to apologize, but not there, not where being strong meant everything. And then, there was the man I had called uncle when I was a small child. Damien Vinovsky, tall and regal as he stood behind my father, his hand on my father's shoulder.

I blinked, watching Damien's hand tighten on my father's shoulder as though keeping him in his seat. I said nothing, turning to Malachai. "Who's Daniel Orr?" I asked.

"Arrested on attempted first degree murder. I need you to take care of it." Malachai waved his hand as though that was going to be easy.

"Attempted murder after deliberation is not something I can just make go away, Malachai. You cannot possibly be that stupid," I bit. Tony smacked the back of my head. After our recent scuffle in the car that had me overpowered ten to one, I should have known better to react the way I did, but I couldn't help it. I whirled on him, punching him. I landed his arm, and he caught my wrist as I pulled away, shoving me into the couch.

"Watch yourself," I hissed as he leaned close to me. He let go immediately, as though I had suddenly become too hot to the touch. His eyes traced my neck, and I stood back up, shooing him away from me. He stepped back to give me room, but not much. I spared a glance to my father. Damien stood behind him with both hands on his shoulders. I could see the tears creeping up into my father's eyes. Silently, I begged him to not cry. Of all of the things, John Cabot did not cry over me. He had no need. Never before had it happened. To start now would be contradictory. I didn't understand it. Maybe it was the whole bit about me finally discovering Daddy's dirty little secret.

Ooh. Maybe I had some issues I needed to resolve with my father.

"Do you two need some time alone to resolve your issues?" Malachai asked. Tony shook his head. I just stared hotly between both men. I didn't like either very much. "If you think you can keep your hands to yourselves, then, children." I hated Malachai more than I did Tony if for no other reason than that Malachai made me feel like a scolded child.

"Look, I already told you, that's off the table. I can plea it down to a first degree assault with five years prison sentencing and three years parole. But, you can't be an idiot. With the reputation I have, it's going to look very strange if all of a sudden, I'm not prosecuting. I'll lose my job in the first week, and then, what use will I be to you?" I put my hands on my hips and watched the older man.

"You have a good point, Alexandra." He pronounced my name like it had a 'k' in it. Aleksandra. It made me cringe and bubble internally. Would Temperance grow up to share my fate? I hoped not. I would do everything in my power to make sure she wasn't someday standing in my shoes before a mob lord, cutting deals to save her ideals. Casey would raise her to be better than me.

Malachai turned to the other man, whom I only just then realized was probably more nervous than I was. "What do you think?" he asked him.

The man looked between me and Malachai as though not sure who it was he would have to strive to appease. It occurred to me that he might not know the structure of the brotherhood, that he might think that because of my boldness with Malachai that I somehow was anything more than a slave to the man I stood before. A well paid servant, but still one against her will. "She has a point," he began nervously, swallowing too much. I wanted to punch him. I didn't know why, but, instinctively, I wanted to punch him. "She is Alexandra Cabot, and before her death, she had a ninety seven percent conviction rate on the original charge. That's almost unheard of. Branch is going to question why she's lost her nerve if she does something drastic. Even pleading assault is risky business."

"What are you, some kind of Cabot expert?" I asked him before turning back to Malachai. "You bribe people into doing this? Or do you scare them because he's about to wet his pants, whoever the fuck he is." I was irritated and exhausted. I just wanted a nice day at home building forts in the couch cushions and reading books under the blankets with flashlights. The things I had wanted to do as a child but had never been allowed to do.

"Alexandra, meet James Steele. And, yes, he is something of our Cabot expert, as you say. We have also assigned him to the homicide bureau. We have more than one person to get things done."

I wrinkled my nose as I looked at the guy. He probably wasn't such a bad kid, and with his nerves, I was betting he, like I, was threatened into following the brotherhood's every whim. I shouldn't hold it against him. I was just crabby from the interruption to my awaited weekend. I had longed for some family time for over a year, and my first opportunity at just being a mother and a wife with no other priorities was being shot through. Yea, I was in a pissy mood. At this rate, I was likely to remain in one for a long time. "Jim," the man said, putting on a braver face than he had moments before.

He held out his hand. I didn't take it. Slowly, he dropped it back to his side as though unsure of what to do. "You're going to need a thicker skin than that to work with me," I barked. "The answer's still no on dropping the charges. Unless you can produce some very compelling evidence that someone else did it, I can plea out, but there will be some jail time. Or, you can take it to trial."

"You will throw the trial."

I laughed. "No. But, your man stands a better chance with a jury at getting off without doing any time than he does with me."

Malachai made a show of examining his hands. What an American thing to do. It seemed so cliché and almost boring that I couldn't believe it. That just didn't seem right. "And, if I involve, say, your daughter on this one, what kind of deals do you think I could get?" he asked, looking up at me.

My father looked at me with eyes wide as I clenched and unclenched my fists. He didn't know I had a kid. He didn't know I had a wife. He knew nothing about me since I finished law school. Every ounce of my non-public life after that, he didn't know about. And, in regards to my public life, I didn't know quite how much he knew about that, either. "You're a bastard, Malachai," I murmured. "And, the first chance I get to kill you, I will. You understand?"

"I expect nothing less from you. Like I said earlier this week, Alexandra, you are your father's daughter." The way he looked at me, then at my father told me something was very, very wrong. I could feel my heart stop in my throat, and I lost my ability for words. Instead, I just stood there, staring, feeling like I was waiting for the hammer to fall, the noose to slide tight around my neck.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: If I were naming my chapters, I would call this one "Daddy Issues" but whatever. :) Thank you all for the reads and the reviews. Try not to worry too much over Jimmy, okay? Okay. **

I shook my head. "Assault one is still going to be the most realistic thing I can do, Malachai. Anything less with compelling evidence against the defendant is going to cost me my job and you'll be without me as your hired attorney. You'll have to find someone else. And, we both know Jimmy here isn't going to cut it as Bureau Chief. You need someone in power who knows how to wield it. You said yourself that I had been groomed for power and politics." The glare I got from Jim was almost dangerous when I said there was no way he could handle a Chief position.

Malachai pursed his lips. He still was not very happy about it. I didn't blame him, I guess. He wanted his man free, and I was telling him that depending on the evidence, that was very likely impossible. If the evidence was shoddy, I might be able to give him a better deal, but I had the distinct feeling that I was being asked this because the evidence was solid against the defendant. Why use me if the case was likely to be dismissed or charges severely reduced, anyway. And, assault one from an attempted murder after deliberation was a huge drop if I did say so myself. In fact, I would probably catch flack for it anyway.

Sighing, I folded my arms across my chest. "We both know you invent evidence. You've gone out of your way to invent evidence against me slaughtering my family even though they're still alive and well. If you can do that, surely, you can do something here. What do they have? Visual-audio recording of your man screaming at the victim 'I'm going to kill you, you little prick?'" Because, with that, I might have a difficult time justifying to my boss that assault one was a plea in the interest of justice. "Look, I'm offering up the plea blind, here. I don't know what kind of evidence the state has against him. Why not just let me do my real job first and look the case over? Then, I'll do the job you want me to do and figure out how to get your murderous little thug back on the streets as soon as possible."

"An awful lot of name calling," Malachai observed. He was right, but I was pissed. At least I wasn't cussing. That had to be a decent sign. "Like it or not, Alexandra, this job fits you perfectly. You have shown a past disregard for the legal system in an effort to make your own version of justice. You have played God where no god exists, and you will be surprised to find that not as many people will think it uncanny of you to do some of which I ask."

"Some," I reiterated, "perhaps. But, this? Unless you're paying off the Bar and the judges on the Manhattan bench, too, then you're inviting someone to look into my ethics. If I go under review straight out the gate, I will turn you in. Don't think I won't."

Malachai smiled. "I knew playing with you would be like playing with fire. So unpredictable, yet so predictable, so violent." His analogy was wrong. My wife was like playing with fire. Casey reached out beyond the touch of her finger tips to go after something. She stretched and spread and grew in her demands not unlike a fire. I had mildly followed her legal career since the trial and I had learned about her outrageous subpoenas. No, she was the flame that could bring down forests. So small and tiny, just one woman, but her passion and dedication were exemplary. Me? I was like ice. I damaged everything that touched me, but I did not go out seeking something to destroy, even if the destruction was justified. I let it come to me. I had always let it come to me, as though by coming to me, I could justify it in saying that it had a death wish. After all, who or what touches something subzero and expects to walk away unscathed? The only thing I chased was my ambitions. And, my wife, my fire. But, if cold weren't attracted to heat, then physicists needed to rethink their entire domain.

I watched my father in silence for a while, my brown eyed, brown haired father. It was my mother who had been blond, though no one knew where my lavender gray eyes came from. They had appeared by genetic mutation. As I watched him, I tried to think of something in our relationship worth saving. I could think of nothing. Here more than anything, I needed a father to stand up for me, to tell Malachai he would not use my family against me. And, yet, my father remained silent. "Temperance is three," I said, my voice hard. "And, I'm engaged to be married to a woman. You should have told me, told me so that I could protect them instead of standing here today, blindsided."

I shook my head, refocusing on Malachai. "Give me something I can work with, Malachai, and I will work with it as far as I can You need to be realistic. All the threats in the world won't give you your fantasy land. If this is all your meeting was about, then I would like to leave." I had a family I wanted to spend time with.

To my surprise, Malachai waved his hand, dismissing me. "Tony, drop James off on your way back to Alexandra's home. Drop him off first." Jim flinched visibly as though that were code for something.

"Just don't do anything to him that'll prevent him from showing up at work on Monday. It'll be good to have someone working under me that can use inexperience as an excuse for some of your, uh, more tricky situations," I suggested. I might have instinctively disliked the guy, but that didn't mean I wanted to see him dead. Malachai had something on him. I just didn't know what. But, one thing was certain, Jim Steele was not in it for the money.

I climbed into the back seat of the car with Jim, Tony driving. "Thanks," Jim murmured. I didn't say anything to him. I didn't even look at him. Tony might have been afraid of Malachai. Or, maybe it was someone else in that room, but either way, he was loyal to them. Anything Jim and I said to each other on that car ride would, surely, be reported back to Malachai. And, full disclosure, I really didn't have anything to say to him.

We rode in silence to what I assumed was Jim's apartment. Tony parked, and Jim got out. Tony made to exit the car as well, and I leaned forward, my hand on his shoulder. "Tony, what are you going to do to him?" I asked.

"Whatever Malachai wants. I'm kind of the clean up guy," Tony answered, looking me dead in the eye.

I bit my lip. "Leave him alone. I need him." Tony raised his brow, and I licked my lips. "Look, leave him for now. You're worried about Malachai, I'll take the heat."

"Can you take it?" he asked me. "I mean, that's your family. There's a damn good reason I never got married."

I scoffed. "Believe me, I wouldn't have either if I had known the brotherhood was going to hold it over my head. Casey deserves better. So does Temperance."

"Your daughter?" he asked me.

I nodded. "You didn't know her name?"

"I try not to," he said with a shrug. "I don't get to know your family, Alex. Why should it matter?"

"It would make your threats to me more credible," I pointed out with a shrug as I climbed into the front seat.

"You are your father's kid, you know? You're just like him."

"You know what my kid calls me?" I asked as I clipped my seat belt, one foot propped up on the seat, my cheek resting on my leg, hands holding my foot.

"Huh?"

"Momma."

"Okay?" He looked at me like I had grown a third eye.

I shrugged. "I'm not her biological mother, but I've taken on the responsibility and the joy of being one of her mothers. Casey is her biological mother, and she is her Mommy." He was still looking at me strange as he pulled away to the curb. "Temperance is not any one else's daughter."

"The Cabots are your parents. Yea, yea. But, they weren't the only ones who raised you. It's just you and Casey with your kid, isn't it? Her rapist Daddy isn't in the picture." I hit him. I didn't know where the anger came from, but I hit him. I had never been a particularly violent person in my life. I had always known it was a blessing I could fight my battles verbally because I was too angry to fight them physically – I would do things I would later regret if I fought them physically. It was bad enough the regrets I had from my verbal episodes.

Tony swerved hard, and I rocked into the door, splaying out to try and prevent myself from getting hurt. It was just a gut reaction. We wound up in an alley way, and the man turned the car off, throwing the keys at me. I shielded myself in panic. "If you're going to resort to fists, you better learn to swing more than just one punch," he snapped, unclipping my seat belt and yanking me out of the car by my wrist and my hair. On the ground in front of the car, he pushed me to my knees, leaning over me. "More than one bullet, Alex. If you're going to go after someone, you need to learn to follow through."

I looked up at him, my hands covering his, trying to relieve the pressure on my skull. "Bullet?" I murmured. "How do you know about that?" He shoved me backwards, straddling my stomach as he pinned my hands beside my head. I tried to bite his hands, but they were too far away, and where he was positioned on my stomach, I couldn't raise my body enough to gain more leverage.

"Are you done?" he asked me. I struggled against him, wiggling in the afternoon light of the alley, trying to throw him off me, or at least convince him to slip up so I could gain even an inch. His frustration must have peaked, though, because he picked me up, his grip transferring back to my hair even as I scratched at him, and slammed my head into the concrete so hard I swear my head bounced. And, I saw stars. I groaned, my eyes rolling as I tried to remember where I was. For a moment, everything spun and time seemed to stop. Then, it all hit me, and I just lay there, trying to focus on Tony. "Jesus, Alex. You've got to knock it off with this shit. I will kill you."

"Malachai will kill you," I mumbled.

"Not Malachai," he answered, standing up. I stayed laying down mostly because even though logically, I knew I was laying down, I was having a hard time convincing my body, and the urge to sway and stumble was incredible, despite not being in any position by which I might do that. And, the sky and fire escape above me was swirling overhead. Standing was not a good idea.

He leaned against the car, and I continued to watch him from my place on the ground. I would have said something, but I was more concerned about the fact that I thought I was going to be ill. If I threw up where I was, I was going to choke on it, and I didn't want to do that.

I didn't know how much time passed, but Tony eventually nudged me with his foot. "Get up," he grumbled. "Get in the car." Slowly, I rolled over, pushing myself to my hands and knees. I swayed, crawling to try and keep my feet in line with my body as I tipped from side to side. "Damn it. See there? You've gotten yourself a concussion. Idiot."

His hand under my armpit pulled me hard to my feet, and I stared at him. "You gave me a concussion, you little prick," I spat, stumbling a little as he tried to drag me to the car. He let me go abruptly, and I sank against the car, my fingers closing around the mirror to keep myself standing. My vision flickered. "Fuck. Tony, I can't see."

"Whatever. Get in the goddamn car." I fumbled for the door handle based on feeling alone. Not being able to see wasn't totally true. I could see vague shapes and colors, but everything bled together, like there was no definition. One thing did not begin and another end. Instead, nothing ended. Everything was one thing, two dimensional except beneath my finger tips. I managed to get into the car by some miracle just before I turned, dry heaving out of the door. Nothing came up, though, and I collapsed, panting, against the seat. I felt Tony roll me to face forward, buckling me into the seat. "You need to be more careful. Or, follow through. If you could fight at all, Alex, this would not have happened. I wouldn't have been able to get a hold of you like that. Just be mellow, okay? Just be the fucking attorney Malachai wants from you. Stop trying to be the fucking detective."

I just looked at him. "What?" he barked. I shook my head. "Then close your eyes." I did. We drove in silence for some time until I felt his hand on my arm. "Alex?"

"What?" I asked, still not daring to open my eyes, though I did pull away from his hand.

"Just making sure you're still alive. You didn't look like you were breathing there for a second."

"I'm alive. It's your lucky fucking day," I growled. I felt a lot more steady, less sick even as we moved.

The vehicle slowed and turned left. "Your mother wasn't raped, either, Alex."

"I don't want to hear it, Tony."

"Tough shit. I know you think we're lower than scum, but your father wouldn't do that."

"I'm well aware the affair was consensual. I think I figured that much out. Maybe John Cabot didn't bond with me, but no one else stepped up and said, 'Hey, Alex, I'm your father. Let me take you to the father daughter dance.' In fact, if I recall correctly, no one stepped in and said it would be a bad idea for me to live over seas alone throughout my teens. Nor did any man say that I should not go to boarding school because he would miss his daughter too much. No one played the role of father to me, but only one man came remotely close. John Cabot may suck as a father, and, quite frankly, as a person, but at least he put in some effort."

I opened my eyes, rolling my head to Tony as he drove. "The things you don't know, Alex," he said as he shook his head.

"I don't want to know, Tony," I replied, sighing. "My father is the man who named me, not some mystery donor that doesn't even have the guts to tell me himself who the fuck he is, okay?"

Tony didn't say anything. I closed my eyes again. Eventually, the door opened, and I opened my eyes, the light bright and in my face. Without another word to Tony, I walked, surprisingly steadily, to the complex, punching in the passcode to take me home. I didn't wait to see if Tony drove off or if he hung around. I just went up the elevator to my house and my family.

Casey opened the door as I turned the key in the lock. "Hey," she murmured, her eyes taking me in. I saw the light in her eyes dissipate as she pressed her hand to my cheek. "Honey, what's wrong?"

I shook my head, resting my hands on her hips as I closed the door behind me with my foot. "Nothing, my beautiful girl. I missed you. I love you."

Smiling softly, Casey kissed me. "I love you, too, but don't lie to me. You're crying." I touched my fingers to my cheek. Sure enough, I was, and I hadn't even noticed. She pulled me to her, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist. "Talk to me, Alex. Let me carry some of the weight."

"I saw my father today," I mumbled. "He didn't know I was still alive."

"How is he?" Casey asked, stroking my hair, pulling me to the couch. She sat me down, holding me against her, and I thought of all of the times I had held her. Were our roles really so reversed?

I shook my head. "Okay, I suppose. He was pretty busy. I told him we were engaged and that we had a daughter."

"What about the meeting is upsetting you so much?" Casey asked as I lay my head against hers. I was so, so tired, and I didn't understand why.

"He's not my father," I murmured. "I found out that I'm some love child or whatever from an affair my mother had. I can't help but think that if I had been his, he would have put more effort into being my father."

Casey stroked my head and back in long, slow movements that made me want to melt into her. "Honey, maybe that's just how he is as a father. Your relationship with Temperance is proof that you don't need to be the biological anything to be a parent. So, he wasn't the greatest parent, but that didn't mean he didn't love you, or that he didn't do things to protect you in his own way."

I smiled softly, tracing designs onto her thigh. "Maybe. I don't know. You're probably right. He wasn't what I needed in a father, but at least he was my father. I'm just so torn."

"Did he say why he waited so long to tell you?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "I didn't ask. I don't really want to know, Casey. Am I horrible for that? I mean, whomever it was didn't exactly win any father of the year awards, either."

"Do you think he knows?"

"My birth father?" I asked. She nodded. I shrugged. "I think so. At least, that was the implication. I really didn't ask. I still don't know what to think about it all, Casey. I mean, I know it's stupid, but I feel really vulnerable."

She hugged me against her. "It's not stupid, Alex. You have every right to feel confused and vulnerable. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

"What are we going to tell Temperance?" I asked, resting my head against her shoulder.

"You mean about how you don't have the right parts to be her biological father?" I nodded, smiling. She knew what to say to make me smile, even if she didn't know she knew it. "Shit, Alex, I don't know. I don't want to tell her what Jesse did to me. I don't want her to have that in her head, and I don't want her to go through everything Olivia went through, wondering if it's genetic."

I kissed Casey's neck. "Do you think she'll wonder if it's genetic? I mean, Olivia was raised thinking she was somehow a worse child for being the child of a rapist, but Casey, that's not how you're raising Tee, how we're raising her. I'm not saying I want to tell her either, but she's going to be realizing that other kids have a mother and a father, and she has two mothers. How long do you think before she questions it?"

"I'm not saying she's not a smart kid, but, Alex, I don't even know if something like that will occur to her. She's not all there, you know? I don't want to assume anything. I want the world to be her oyster, but the older she gets, yea, she gets better, but, well, you've seen it, haven't you?"

Biting my lip, I nodded. I knew what she was talking about. Temperance wasn't all there. I didn't know where she was, and she was too young to really communicate it. "Oh, Beautiful," I murmured, kissing her cheek. She wrapped her arms around me, and I buried myself closer to her, holding her against me as she held me to her. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I do," she murmured. "I hope you know how much I love you. Alex, I mean it. Whatever you need from me, you tell me, and if it's within my power, I will get it for you."

I brought her face to mine, kissing her gently. "You bring me so much joy and peace that I couldn't ask for anything else, Casey. Just being with you makes my world brighter."

"You're such a hopeless romantic," she giggled. As she kissed me, her fingers glided over my neck. I was still sore from the throttling from Tony, and my head began to throb steadily at the base of my skull. Her fingers found the minor bruises that had started to show, though, and rubbed at them, not in a manner that hurt, but soothed. I had assumed that her silence meant that she hadn't noticed. But, she had, and she had chosen not to say anything.

Quietly, I took her hand from my neck, lacing her fingers in mine. I brought her hand to her lap, still kissing her, my hand leaving hers to roam her thighs. She still bore hickeys from the previous night's escapades into that morning dotting her neck, chest, stomach, and left wrist. Casey hummed. "Alex," she murmured into my mouth. I loved hearing the sound of my name on her breath. It made everything else outside of our home worth it.

It was a sleepy sounding "Mommy?" that broke us apart, and I turned to smile at the little toddler who was rubbing her tired eyes, teddy bear hanging from her hand. She was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, and once Casey and I looked over to her, she ran into the living room and climbed onto the couch with us, cuddling between the two of us.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Casey murmured, rubbing small circles on Temperance's back.

"Had scaw-ee dree," she answered, sucking on her lip.

"Aww, Tee-Tee," I said, wrapping her up in my arms with the blanket that hung over the back of the couch. "Honey, what was the scary dream about?"

"Taked me away," she said. "No more Mommy. No more Momma."

"Mommy and Momma aren't going anywhere, sweetie. I promise," I said, kissing her forehead. "Who taked you away?"

She said the one word that would make my heart stop cold. My breath caught in my throat, and my attention snapped to Casey, our eyes locking. The same expression of sheer panic fell over her face as did mine. "Honey," I cooed, "Do you mean Matty's daddy? Uncle Jake?" I couldn't fathom why she would have nightmares about Jake taking her away from us, but I had to be certain I understood her correctly. I didn't want to be understanding her correctly. I wanted to be wrong because if I was right then this family which I held the sworn duty to protect was in a lot more danger than I initially believed.

Temperance shook her head. "No, Momma. Not Ukle. Daddy."


	19. Chapter 19

I settled Temperance in my lap, careful not to alarm her. "Tee-tee, this is really important," I said. She nodded as though she understood the gravity of the situation. "Does Daddy look more like Uncle Elliot or Uncle Fin?" She gave me a confused look. "Does Daddy look like Momma?"

"No. Momma girl!" She giggled, and I laughed, too.

"Momma is a girl. Does Daddy look like Uncle Elliot?"

Temperance seemed to think about that. "Daddy boy," she said, "Not look Ukle El-it."

"Is Daddy a boy that looks like Uncle Fin?" I asked.

She thought about that for a minute, considering her options. I thought for a moment she had dazed off, her look had gone entirely blank. "No," she finally said. "Ukle Fin Ukle Fin. Daddy Daddy." It was her hesitation in answering the question that made me truly believe it was Jesse. I looked over Temperance to Casey who looked like she was fighting either nausea or tears or both, I couldn't quite tell.

"Okay, Baby Girl," I murmured. "Where do you see Daddy?" I cringed internally to call him her daddy, but it was the word she used, and I didn't want to confuse or alarm her. She was clearly already alarmed enough to be having nightmares about him taking her away from Casey and myself.

"Askoo," she responded. "We go ahsi. He give cookie."

"You see him at school when you go outside?" I asked to make sure I understood.

She nodded. "Give cookie. Say Daddy and Tee-tee go bye-bye." She started to tear up, shaking her head. "Not wanna go bye-bye." I felt her tremble against me as she threw her arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms and the blanket back around her, holding her to me.

"Shh, Temperance, it's okay. Momma won't let Daddy take you bye-bye. If you see Daddy again, you run to your teacher and tell her, okay?" Temperance nodded. "And, Tee, he's not your daddy, okay? I know Momma's a girl, but Momma's also your daddy, okay? No one else. That man at school is a bad guy, okay?"

"Baguy," she said, nodding her head once. "Not wanna go wif Baguy."

"That's right, honey, you don't go with the bad guy. You tell Miss Morgan if you see him at school, and you tell Mommy or Momma if you see him anywhere else, okay?" She nodded, and I just held her against me for a few minutes, Casey scooting over to us, wrapping herself around Temperance. I could feel Casey trembling as well.

"Tee-tee, would you like to go play with Auntie Livvy this afternoon?" I asked.

"Ya!" the little girl said, her entire demeanor changing. "Aunnie Liffy."

"Casey, why don't you call Olivia and explain to her what's going on? I want to call a couple of the agents that worked the case initially. Jesse should still have a federal warrant." Casey nodded, and I reached over, pushing her tears from her face. "Hey, it's going to be alright. We know now. I'll protect you both from him, okay?"

Nodding, Casey stood up, grabbing for her phone. I stayed with Temperance, the toddler sitting in my lap, playing with my fingers. From the bedroom, I heard Casey's voice. "Liv, it's Casey." She sounded like she was crying harder. I wanted to go to her and hold her, but it was more important to not alarm Temperance. If she got spooked about what she had told us, thought that it upset us in anyway, she might not tell one of the detectives, and in order for the detectives to investigate, it was crucial that she felt comfortable telling Olivia about seeing Jesse at school and what he told her.

"I think he found her, Olivia. She woke up from her nap talking about her father and how he was going to take her away and how she saw him at school. Oh, God, Olivia, I can't go through this again. I can't. Oh, God."

My heart broke to hear hers shatter. She had been doing so well, and I just knew this was going to set her back considerably. I picked up my own phone. _Pick me up? I need to talk to him._ I sent the text message to Tony off the phone. It had been made clear that he was my point of contact within the brotherhood, and, in all honesty, I was done playing with the good side of law enforcement. Maybe my more recent experiences had made me vulnerable to distrusting anyone outside of the Special Victims Unit when it came to badges and guns. Maybe I just knew how dangerous Jesse could be and I couldn't tolerate that. He had taken Casey from me once before. His assault against her had nearly taken Temperance away from both of us. I wasn't stupid medically, either. Casey had been through a lot while she was pregnant, and any of those traumatic experiences could be responsible for some kind of brain trauma to Temperance. Jesse's attack was on that list, and that put him on my list.

_When? _came the response.

_Now. _

Temperance slid out of my lap and over to her toy box. I watched her pick out a teddy bear and some toy fruit, promptly sit down and begin feeding the bear. "Tee-tee, are you hungry? You want a snack before you go see Auntie?"

"Ya!" she squealed, jumping up as I stood up, heading to the kitchen to get her something to snack on.

"Can you be a big girl and get in your seat?" She nodded to my request and climbed into her chair, holding out the buckles. We buckled her in every time, not because she would crawl out of her booster chair, but because she was epileptic, and Casey was worried that she could have a seizure at the table. Once Casey had explained to me the whole disorder, I was worried, too, and I buckled her in. Less than a week in New York, and already, our lives were drama stuffed. I couldn't wait for a normal life. Not that I thought we would ever have one. But, one less problem would be very nice, I thought.

Pouring some Cheerios into a bowl, I set the snack in front of Temperance, sitting down beside her. The chances of her choking on Cheerios were slim, but I didn't want to be too far. That aside, with this new threat, I really didn't want to be too far, even in our own home. I didn't know how long Jesse had been watching Temperance at school or how many times he had contacted her there. I didn't know if he knew where we lived, if he was watching us in the building, if he followed Casey when she went to work in the mornings. I had no idea. It scared the shit out of me.

Casey stepped out of the bedroom, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Auntie Livvy's gunna be here in ten minutes to pick us up, Tee-tee," she announced with a smile that I could tell was forced. "You better hurry up and eat your snack before then."

As Casey walked over to me, I pulled her onto my lap. She hung her arms around my neck, her face buried against me. "I can't do this, Alex," she murmured.

"I know that's how it feels, Case, but you can do it. I've seen how strong you really are. If it's him, they'll get him," I murmured softly.

"If it's not?" she asked, though I knew she believed it to be Jesse just as much as I did.

"They'll still get him," I said.

Casey was trembling, and I felt so much at a loss for what to do. I didn't know how to fix this, and it killed me. "What if he gets to us first? What if he takes my baby away from me?"

"I won't let him, Casey. I won't let him touch either of you."

"You can't promise that," she murmured, and that hit home. She was dead right. I couldn't promise anything.

I held her in silence for a few seconds. "Maybe not, but I will absolutely do everything in my power to protect you and Temperance, Casey." And, whether or not I liked how, my power base had expanded from what I was accustomed to by merely being a Cabot. "One of the agents is going to stop by and pick me up. He wants me to take him over to the school so he can get a layout of the place. I don't know if we'll beat you back here or not, but do you think you'll be okay talking to Olivia?"

She nodded. "Yes. We'll be fine. Alex?"

"Hm, honey?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being you." She snuggled against me in the chair, and I held her as Temperance picked at her Cheerios, putting some in her mouth, some on the counter. I didn't correct her about putting the food on the table. Right then, it didn't bother me, and I was too worried about Casey to be worried about food.

My phone vibrated causing me to jump a little. _Here._

Casey slid off my lap. "That him?" I nodded. "Thank you, Alex. I mean it. Thank you."

I kissed her lips softly. "Honey, we'll get him. Lock up. Don't leave until Olivia gets here. I love you." She nodded. We always locked the door anyway, even if we were still in the apartment. Even with the security in the building, it never hurt to just lock the door as well.

"I love you, too."

"Love you, Tee-tee," I said, kissing the little girl's forehead. "Have fun with Auntie and Mommy, okay?"

"Tay," the girl responded with a smile as she stuffed another Cheerio into her mouth.

I grabbed my jacket on the way out, pulling it on in the elevator. I was practically shaking, but by the time I stood in front of Tony in the lobby, I had enough self control to at least not give myself away for the amount of terror I was feeling. "What's the rush?" Tony asked as he led me outside to the car.

Climbing into the passenger side, I remained silent until long after he had pulled away from the curb, headed towards Brighton Beach. "Where is Malachai?"

Tony shook his head. "Malachai's busy. You'll be meeting with Damien. He can make the same kinds of calls Malachai can."

"Fine, where's Damien?" I asked, not entirely trusting the man who had held my father down. It made me wonder if they had threatened him should he speak, for it was too unlike him to not say anything. I tried not to dwell on the matter, but it was just my nature. I obsessed over everything. I drew lines like some people made lists. It was a fucking hobby.

"The restaurant. It's a popular meeting place."

"I know," I said with a sigh.

"So, what do you want?"

"I have a deal to propose," I said, "but it's of an urgent matter. In essence, what I need needs to be taken care of before what Malachai needs will even be considered." Why? Because there were currently two threats against my family. If one threat could eradicate the other, then they were only a little safer. If Damien didn't like it, it wasn't like Jesse was any less likely than Damien or Malachai or Tony to hurt my family. Fuck, Jesse had one up on the brotherhood. He had already hurt both Casey and Temperance.

"Have you gone to the police yet?" Tony asked me. I shook my head. He seemed surprised at that. "Why not? Don't you trust them to handle your problem?" Again, I shook my head. "Do you trust the brotherhood to handle your problem?"

"No, but I have something on the brotherhood that I don't have on the police."

Tony smiled at me in that strange way of his. I had the distinct feeling he was checking me out, and it unnerved me. "You're a quick learner."

"It's a talent," I said, dryly. He chuckled and focused on driving. I just sat in silence beside him, watching the familiar territory of New York slide by in the late afternoon. It was a Sunday and while it seemed like there was never not traffic in New York, traffic was lighter than it would have been on a week day. We made Brighton Beach in good time, and I found myself standing before Damien, an uncharacteristic trail of sweat beading down my back.

"Alexandra," Damien said, bowing his head before pulling a chair out for me. Who knew a man in the hierarchy of the Bratva would be among the few gentlemen I had yet encountered. "Wine?"

"No, thank you, Damien," I said as I sat down.

He nodded. "Something harder? I know that wine is your preference, but you seem to be under considerable stress."

I pursed my lips. I wanted to ask him what his role in the whole scheme of things was, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want to blow my chances at a deal, and I needed the deal more than anything. "Whiskey, straight," I answered.

He nodded to me once more and held up his hand. Almost instantly, a young man brought over two tumblers of whiskey, both without ice. "You knew I would order that," I accused, forgetting myself temporarily.

"I know a lot about you, Alexandra. I have, after all, known you since you were a baby." I licked my lips, my head dropping. He was, of course, right.

"I have a business proposition for you," I said, almost downing the whiskey in one go. I was nervous.

Damien stretched out his hands as if to silently say 'go on.'

"Jesse Donovan for Daniel Orr, clean slated with no leads on both cases," I said. I didn't usually offer everything up front, but I had watched Damien as much as he had watched me. I knew him as well. He was a shrewd business partner with my father, and would be no less with me. If I toyed, he would not appreciate it. And, I would be quick to find out just how little my games were considered.

"Orr walks with immunity to that case?" he asked. I nodded. "In return, you want Donovan?"

"Verified. I want him on the slab at the morgue. An accident or a suicide; something that cannot be prosecuted by anyone. When I see him in the morgue, can touch his dead skin, then Orr walks with a dismissal and immunity to that particular murder."

Damien licked his lips, watching me as he drank his own beverage. He was graceful. As a sickly child, I had wanted nothing more than to imitate his grace. As a child, I was clumsy, shaky, ill. Now, I sat facing my so-called uncle with a straight back, steady hands, and a regal manner. I watched him smile. It was slow, sadistic, and truly creepy. What haunted me was the familiarity in it. I panted softly, looking down to break the spell it had cast over me. "You have yourself an accord, Alexandra. Mark me, child, what will happen if you don't follow through with your end of the deal."

I nodded. "I know. You have my word and my fear. If that's not enough, then you cannot have me."

Again, he smiled. I swallowed. "What is he to you?"

"That is not part of the deal," I said, my tone reprimanding.

"Fair. You settled on your price. Will you come for dinner with me on Wednesday evening?" he asked. "I see that you are fitting in to your new role exceptionally well. We should celebrate, no?"

"No," I said, moving to stand.

He grabbed my wrist, fingers digging into my skin. "Please, allow me to be a good host."

His voice and his eyes said it was no longer a request. The pressure around my wrist said that to believe it to be anything less than a command was foolish. I nodded my consent as though I had a choice. "After work."

"Tony will pick you up." Damien still had my wrist in his hands. "Oh, how fast you flip, young Alexandra. You have so much to learn, but you learn very quickly. I believe Malachai has underestimated you, assuming that because you were raised by another, you cannot be true family. It would seem, though, that blood is thicker than water."

"Lead is thicker than both," I said.

"So many threats. I wonder, though, how empty your words are."

"Force my hand and find out," I growled.

He patted my hand. "Ti takaya krasivaya, moy demonista," he murmured, but I did not speak Russian. I just stared at him. "You are such a beautiful girl."

"You called me a demon," I accused, my ear basing on sounds alone. He only smiled, and though his words did not confirm that he had indeed called me his demon, as though I were some demigod pet, that smile said everything I needed to understand. In his eyes, I was his demigod pet. I tugged my hand away, pressing my hand to my stomach. "I am not your demon."

"You are what you are."

"Our deal?"

"Is already sealed, Alexandra."

I nodded once and fled back to the car where Tony was waiting, my heart hammering in my throat. I couldn't stand another minute in the restaurant. I just wanted to breathe in whatever amounted to fresh air in New York. It wasn't much, but at least at the beaches, I could pretend it wasn't totally the city. The stench was different.

"That was fast," he remarked.

"I have a price. Damien has a price. We agreed on our price," I said, getting quickly into the passenger seat. "Now, I want to go home."

"As you please, my lady," Tony said with an exaggerated flourish of his hands that told me he was being sarcastic.

I fixed him with an icy glare. "You nearly choked me out, you gave me a throbbing headache and possibly a concussion already today. You still haven't broken me. What's your aim?" My head truly did still hurt, beyond words. I wasn't going to tell anyone how much difficulty I was having focusing on objects that were far away from me or processing quick movements. I was screwed if Tony wanted to pick another fight. I was going to go down in that one, and I knew it. Best be on my best behavior. I had won this battle, even if it had cost me some of my soul.

He smiled broadly. "I don't want to break you, Alex."

"You're creepy, you know that?"

His hand met my shoulder in that guy tap that I associated with guys watching football or talking about and agreeing on politics when they really had no idea what they were discussing. Without invoking a Superbowl commercial, I couldn't describe it. "I know." He offered a half cocked smile. I shuddered at the memory of Damien's smile. Though Tony's was not nearly as creepy as Damien's, it still brought his smile to the forefront of my memory, and even as a memory, it held an effect over me not unlike a spell of some kind.


	20. Chapter 20

_Laying awake that night, Casey wrapped against me, I thought over everything. I couldn't sleep. I lay awake thinking every sound fluttering through the house was him, and that scared the crap out of me. It scared me how much power he had over me. David had broken into my house once. David had nearly killed Casey, and I had been devastated before I even knew what I had. Now that I knew, really knew, what I had, what would happen if he hurt her again? I knew I couldn't sit in silence in the next room, preparing a tracking method to get her back. I couldn't do that because even though that had been the smartest, safest option for her at the time, she had still gotten hurt. My solution had been reactive, not proactive, and I couldn't keep going that way. Not with a man who had more training and skill than almost anyone else I knew. Maybe Elliot. Maybe Elliot could contend with him, but Elliot didn't think like a predator. He thought like a protector. And, like a protector, he feared the predators. Jesse could exploit that in the same way Malachai and Damien exploited that trait in me. I was the protector. If cornered, I could lash out. But, I was a protector. I didn't seek prey. That wasn't in my nature. It just wasn't. _

_Monday morning proved to be difficult. Neither Casey nor I wanted to send Temperance to school. If that was where she was meeting Jesse, then removing it seemed to be the logical step in removing Jesse. It might also tip him off that we knew. Me keeping the two children for two days while I wasn't working was not suspicious. Casey or I staying home from work to be with Temperance was suspicious. And, if Jesse were like any other predator out there, I knew he knew Casey's routine. He probably knew it in that same way Malachai knew mine. We ended up dropping her off at school, talking to her teacher about what she had told us, that it had been reported to the police, and asking her to keep an eye on it. Casey mentioned, too, that one of the detectives would be by that day to talk to some of the staff and see if they noticed a strange man in the area watching the children, specifically, Temperance. _

_I fell silent when the question came up why he was following Temperance. Casey briefly explained that he was her biological father but only because he had raped her. She mentioned, too, that there was a warrant for his arrest for what he had done to her, and asked them to call the emergency number should they see him or even think they saw him. We provided a picture of him to the administration and to Morgan, Temperance's teacher. _

_The entire day, I was hyper vigilant, conscious of where and how my phone was at all times. My junior ADAs immediately deemed me a bitch, and I cared even less than I would have normally. I was in a crisis mode. I didn't feel like my normal self. I snapped easily, jumped, and generally spent the day the viper in the corner, lashing out as I saw fit to defend myself from an enemy that wasn't even there. Not in the room. _

_By the end of the day, I was a fucking wreck, waiting for Tony to text me to tell me to go to the morgue, that it was safe, that I could breathe again. But, the text never came. Tuesday was the same way. I was a right bitch, and though my subordinates did not necessarily deserve it, they got to deal with it. I did not feel like myself. All I wanted to do was lock myself in my office and scream. Since I couldn't, it came off in other ways. _

Wednesday wasn't much better when Jim cornered me in my office. "Whatever the fuck's going on, Alex, you have got to pull yourself together," he hissed, the door shutting behind him. "You losing your cool is not winning favors with anyone."

"Look at you talk," I snapped back. I really wanted to throw something at him. Not something particularly hard and damaging, but not something soft, either. "You're a fucking moron out there. How the fuck did you graduate law school?"

He looked slightly hurt for a fraction of a second. "There, see? That. That's exactly what I mean. You're going to scare all the ADAs off. They're going to hate you and not trust you."

"Trust me? You really think they should trust me? Look at what the fuck we're doing. What we are, Jim. I wouldn't trust me." I was glad we both knew how to keep our voices down, low enough that they didn't leave the office. It meant that the others would not know our conversation, and the less they knew, the better.

Jim took a step forward, towards me, and I reached out, physically pushing him away. "That's what your goddamn hang up is in this, Alex? Shit. Aren't you supposed to be some fearless leader or something?"

"I am not a criminal, Jim. I don't know what the fuck they have over your head, but I am not a criminal. I can't sleep at night because of all of this. What about you?"

"You're not a criminal? That's not what I heard. I heard you're heart is as dark as theirs, so you need to pull yourself together. Stop being an unnecessary bitch. It makes you look incompetent."

"So does releasing murderers back onto the street at the will of some enterprising crime lord," I snapped.

I swear, Jim growled at me. "Then pick your evil, Alex, pick your poison, because you're going to have to chose between two things you hate if you want to survive. You got on their radar somehow, and trust me, once you're on, you don't get off. You don't repay debts to them."

"I'm not in debt." I was so close to losing my temper and yelling that I had to grip the back of my chair to remind myself to breathe, that yelling would have no positive outcome.

"Someone in your family is, and you're their repayment."

I sank into my chair behind my desk, clutching the edge of the wood. Someone in my family was in debt. My false father. I knew that. I had figured that much out. But, someone else in my family could run the ranks. I didn't know who other than the fact the he was my biological father. And, it wasn't really knowledge. At that point, it was nothing more than speculation. It was why Tony was so afraid of doing real damage to me. The retribution would not be worth the satisfaction he would get from beating the living shit out of me. "Get out."

"Alex-"

"Get the fuck out of my office and go do your goddamn job." The anger in my voice, though not loud, must have carried with it some kind of weight because he looked at me the same way a deer looks at a wolf right before he bolted out of my office, the door swinging closed behind him. Running my hands through my hair, I collapsed onto my desk. I wanted nothing more than to cry at that moment, but I knew that was impossible.

Five o'clock could not have come soon enough, yet I was dreading it in each moment that it crept closer. Jesse wasn't my only stress. I had a dinner date with Damien, and I didn't know what he wanted from me. I didn't know where he planned to take me. For all I knew, he could be planning to kill me which meant that it would leave Casey and Temperance in the wind. Not that they were defenseless. I knew Olivia, Fin, Elliot, John, and Don would all take care of her, had been taking care of her, but that was supposed to be my role. Accepting that I was weak was not my strongest point, but I was realizing that I was going to have to accept that.

Accept it and then change it, but that first step was a hard one. I already knew how impossible it was to change something about oneself when one did not believe that trait to be true. I had long ago come to believe I could conquer anything, and while that was still true, it meant that I now had to believe that there were things I had not yet conquered. I was cocky, and it was my weakness. Being shot should have taught me that, but I had refused to learn. Stubbornly, I had pushed that aside, and then it had returned to haunt me. My own short comings and failures played around in my head until I felt as if I would burst.

I locked my office door that afternoon in fear that I would pick fights just to pick fights. I didn't want to fight. Tony was right, when I fought, I needed to commit myself to it. I had done so well as a Special Victims prosecutor, as a prosecutor in general before being shot. Fuck, I had done so well as a person in general. Being shot, being murdered, falling in love, being afraid, being a mother, that had changed me. That had changed me in ways I had neither expected nor prepared for. And, I had to scramble to catch up, to pick up the pieces, frantically put them back together, and then to reinforce defenses that had not existed until I had become Alexandra Cabot again, permanently. In less than a week, I had to make myself hard and cold and dead while still being alive and compassionate and caring. The medium I had found before the Bratva and before the cartel, while not happy, would no longer work to save me.

I was simply carrying too much weight.

It was gone six when a knock on my door finally made me look up from the paperwork on my desk. No, I didn't need to get it all done that day, but I had gotten distracted, been absorbed by the paperwork, like it was some kind of dark monster that sucked me in. I couldn't help but wonder how many more cases I would be asked to dismiss. How many more times would I have to weigh my options, negotiate pleas to satisfy a greater beast. Talk about conflict of interest, and I wasn't even considering legal ethics any longer. My morals had been shot out of the window asking for Jesse's demise. It brought about the question of whether or not I really was capable of killing to protect my family, and how far from an immediate threat was I willing to go to justify my actions? It would be different if Jesse showed up to the front door and waved a gun in my face. Even in the state of New York, I could claim self defense if I killed him over that. But, here, he was stalking my wife and daughter. There was a big difference. Stalking, yes, often lead to the death of the victims in question if not intervened, but that was not really the point. That threat, it wasn't immediate, no matter how much sleep I lost over it.

What I had done was illegal. It went against my ethics as a person and as an attorney. Conscionably, I could not order the death of my enemy, no matter how dangerous he really was. Until he killed in cold blood or threatened me directly and immediately, the law said I could not kill him. Yet, that was what I had done. I had ordered a hit out on another person. Not that Jesse did not deserve to die, for I knew Casey was far from his only victim, but the conflict to my conscious was detrimental.

But, when I thought about it, was that really what I was losing sleep over?

"Come in," I called.

"It's locked, Alex," Tony's voice broke through the wooden barrier. Groaning, I stood and unlocked the door, letting him inside my office. "Are you ready to go? Damien thinks you've stood him up, and I've been outside almost an hour. I had to convince security downstairs that I was your driver. They want to know how a prosecutor can afford a driver."

"I'd like to know that, too," I grumbled, grabbing my jacket and my wallet from in my desk. I left the briefcase with all of its many case files. If I needed it, I could ride the subway back after dinner, but, realistically, I wasn't going to work from home. Not with a kid who hadn't seen me all day who no doubt wanted to play. Casey knew I would be home late, that I was going to dinner with my uncle. She didn't question it. She didn't question me. I had that kind of faith in her, yes, but I wished sincerely that I could have it in anyone else. Granted, I hardly seemed to have a reason to have it in anyone else.

Chewing on my lip, I followed Tony out of the building. Security was tighter than I remembered. Then again, some of the guards from the front hung around chatting after which meant they managed to check people as well. I still thought it was lax. Anyone could get through pretending to have a delivery. Security did not call us to verify anything, they just let people up if they didn't have any knives or guns or contraband on them in obvious places. Yes, they went through a metal detector. I was just being paranoid. They did a fine job.

"Hey, Alex," one of the guards called as we walked past them to the front door where Tony was parked. "How come you get a driver?"

"He owes me for all the tormenting he put me through as a child," I lied, calling back to them as Tony walked ahead of me. "He's my cousin. Don't let him give you crap. And, don't believe a word he says."

"Aye, aye," the guard said, saluting. "You two have a good night."

"I'm your cousin, now?" Tony said with a smile once the door shut behind me.

I nodded. "Maybe the idea of incest will help remind you to keep your hands off me. Stop looking at me like I'm naked."

Tony shrugged. "Guy."

"Not a valid excuse."

"Fine. Perv."

"Better," I grumbled, but I couldn't complain too much. He had netted me a meeting with Damien quickly, and I appreciated that. I was also coming to realize that underneath the crud, gruff exterior, he was giving me his own version of Bratva 101. And, to be honest, I was learning more from him about the brotherhood than I was from Malachai or Damien which was nice. If I was going to survive and protect my family, then I needed all of the knowledge I could get.

"Are you prepared for this?" he asked me as we drove to the restaurant where I had met with Damien the previous Sunday.

"For what?"

"This isn't just dinner, Alex. For them, everything is business. He's going to want something from you, but in turn, he'll offer you something. Don't agree to anything until you hear what he's going to give back. He'll try to be vague."

I nodded. "I gathered as much. I'm a pretty good attorney, though. I think I can hold my own."

"Don't be so cocky. You did let Orr walk."

"I haven't seen a body in the morgue yet," I countered. "Orr doesn't walk until I see that body, and speedy trial deadline is coming up in ninety days. I have full reign to try and convict if there's no body in the morgue before that time. There are certain things to which I am constrained by law. My constraints are theirs."

"Sneaky witch," he said. "That's sexy."

"Lesbian."

"That's what they all say," he quipped.

I smiled, joining the banter. "If that's what they all say, you're in the wrong bar."

He punched me lightly. "You might be okay, Alex. I'm really rooting for you."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Malachai doesn't really like female attorneys."

"Then why hire, um, sorry, blackmail me into working for him?"

He just gave me a look, and I sank into my seat. Oh, yea. My father worked for him. Plus, I had no idea what my genetic relation was to him, if we were even genetically related. Or, was I related by blood to yet another of his worker bees.

Tony dropped me off at the front door of the restaurant, and I climbed out as he went around to park. Or, at least, that was what he said. I really had no idea. I didn't even open my mouth to the waiter in the front of the restaurant before he ushered me into the back to a seat where Damien already sat, his back to the wall, body facing the room. He would see everything and anything that happened in that room. Criminals and cops were not unalike. At least, not the competent criminals from the competent cops. I supposed that was why people like Damien had been criminals their entire lives and still had no record of any kind. Damien didn't even have a parking ticket. I had checked.

"Alexandra, I thought you had, how do you say, chickened out," Damien said. It took me a few moments to realize he was teasing me. There was nothing different about his demeanor or his tone when he said those words, but something resonated within me that made me think he was trying to be playful. Or, at least, playful in that comrade in arms kind of way. The way that still said he had seen too much and done too much to have a soul, but at least he was trying.

Smiling faintly, I let the waiter take my jacket before sliding into the seat he pulled out for me. This time, Damien only stood while I was at the table, sitting down only when I did. How very European of him. Not particularly a Russian cultural trait. At least, not in my minimal knowledge bank. "I lost track of time. My apologies."

He shook his hand as if to wave off the idea that something could be wrong. "Not to worry. You've had a lot of time to think, have you not?" I didn't know what he was getting at, but I nodded, slowly. "You look as though you've lost a great deal of sleep."

I nodded, touching the underside of my eyes lightly. They were sunken, I knew that much. "I have."

"What keeps you up at night, child?" he asked, resorting to what he had called me when I was, indeed, a child.

I shrugged. "Whatever it so happens that I am concerned about," I answered.

"Have you put much consideration into your situation?"

"Which one?"

"From Sunday." I nodded. "And? Do you stand by your request?"

I stared at him, my lips slightly parted. I could feel my heart rate accelerate. He was giving me an out, but it was my one and only. I understood that. I also understood the implications of what would happen if I backed out and what would happen if I stayed my ground. Either way, I was in the loss of something. Which, however, was more important to me. "Will you answer me my question in return?"

"Depends what your question is," he said.

"Why does Malachai want me?"

Damien smiled. "Malachai doesn't want you. I do." In that, he answered several questions, and I felt a sort of sting in my stomach, pulling at me, making me nauseous.

"Why?" I whispered feeling suddenly very small and helpless.

"A question for a question," he said. "And, I've already asked mine."

I bit my lip. It wasn't the hit I had put out on Jesse that was causing me to lose sleep at night. Were it just that, I think I could sleep. My real fear, as I lay awake with Casey tossing and turning at my side, was that Jesse would appear from the darkness like a haunting, painful mist. Could I sell my soul to see Casey happy?

I was pretty sure I had my answer. I had known my answer all along. If one were to still think of loving someone as a sacrifice of one's own ideals to be with the person one loved, then it was impossible to say that it was really known what the meaning of love was, exactly. Love is never about sacrifice because love isn't about keeping score. It's only a sacrifice if the score is kept.

"I stand by my request on Sunday, and by my repayment of gratitude."

Damien nodded. "That was your one opportunity, Alexandra."

"I know," I said. "And, I appreciate it, but I don't need it. Pour vivre heureux, vivons caché."

He shook his head. "What does that mean?"

"If you want to live happy, live hidden."

He smiled. "I guess it's your question, then."

"The same still stands unanswered," I pointed out.

"Why do I want you?" I nodded. "I know you, Alexandra, better than you know yourself. Are you sure this is the question you want answered?" Swallowing, I knew I didn't want the answer, but I nodded anyway. I nodded because whether or not I wanted the answer, I needed it. And, there was a big difference.


	21. Chapter 21

_**I suppose it should be prefaced that it was on more than one occasion that Judge Lena Petrovsky reminded me that I relied particularly heavily on the favors owed to me and the favors I owed to others. It seems now, looking back from where I stand today that I was groomed for what I did to Jesse all of my life. It was verily encouraged, though in more subtle ways than anyone could have ever imagined. Trade a favor for a favor. Keep your hands clean. What you don't know, you can't testify to. The lessons of my childhood were not the lessons of a normal childhood, and I carry their burdens with me to this day. I ordered a man dead, and I didn't lose any sleep over it. I lost sleep prior to his death because I was afraid for what he would do to my wife and child. I did not, however, lose any sleep over him once I knew he was dead. And, that was the lesson of my childhood. Fear the living. The dead only lie. **_

He seemed to consider my answer with a great deal of surprise. I think he had expected me, yet again, to back off, but he shook his head and sighed, leaning back into the booth. "I should not be so shocked by your drive, child. It is so wholly and completely you that I do not know quite how to alter you."

"You don't need to," I said. "I was raised for this. Even the boys my father made me date, Damien, I'm not stupid. Roman? Luka? Filip? Oh, and, we can't forget Alek, can we? Surely you remember them."

Damien nodded once, his fingers pyramiding at his chin. "I do."

"You couldn't marry me in to the brotherhood, could you?"

He smiled. "I could not, but you were so set on law school, and with your prowess with words, I have every faith you will serve us well in this capacity."

"But, why me?"

The man across from me stared at me, his golden-gray eyes boring into me, golden from the light, though I had faith that they were usually gray or green, I could not remember very clearly. I wanted to say green because as a child with my lavender-gray eyes, I had always wanted jewels that glittered like his eyes, like Casey's eyes. I had been jealous of them as a kid. And, I was ever jealous of them now, even as I knew the type of monster he was because I knew that within myself was the capacity for that type of monster, that type of question that lingered in the back of my soul. Could I really do it? Could I behave evilly? But, then, of course, a student of philosophy would say that there may well be no such thing as evil. It is human nature to want to protect. It is, by all accounts, human nature to want to kill. It is only civilization that keeps us from truly behaving like the animals we are. And, even then, I could feel my thought process changing, morphing into something different and greater and less than anything I had truly, honestly considered before.

Oh, the things a human being would think if only the situation arose by which to think it.

"I've watched your career, Alexandra, your life. You are right. You were raised for this, though to be honest, I did not know you would survive childhood. I thought surely, you would be killed." I furrowed my brow. To my knowledge, the cartel were the first to try to kill me, though several defendants had said they would have liked to in open court. Or behind closed doors. I did have one boyfriend tell me in a drunken rage that he would kill me if I didn't have sex with him, but in my childhood? I wasn't that bad, was I? Unless he meant the whole bit about my off and on again illnesses. There was another mystery to my life. Unless Damien were being dramatic. By which case, let him have at it, I figured.

He continued, "You have always had your own sense of justice. Human law, as you know, is vastly cultural. It is not like physics or mathematics. It is variable and fluid, with its consistent being only that it is inconsistent in nature." I nodded briefly my agreement. Sure. I had fallen into that debate many a time with other law school students, professors, attorneys, and judges. "But law, you might agree, is not justice."

That, I did agree to, and I said as much, though my answer was soft and solid. It was not justice to take away the son of a man who was innocent even if that son took away the daughter of another. It was retribution. It was punishment. But, it was not justice. Justice, as far as I was concerned, did not exist externally. Justice was a sensation that could only be identified within those who believed themselves to have been wronged. The injustice was tamed only when that person believed it to be so. I had seen it in action. Justice for Casey towards one of the men who had brutally raped her was not that he answered for his actions against her but that she had the satisfaction of closing the jail house door behind him, forcing him to answer for the actions he had taken against another. In terms of human law, Tommy had not paid an ounce to what he had done to Casey. In terms of justice, though, Casey was satiated, and that was the difference.

"I want you because you see the difference. You are not the only one, but you are one of the few that works with a fiery passion towards it." I opened my mouth. He held up his hand, stopping me. "I am not saying that everything we do is just. In fact, I wouldn't even think to argue with you that most of it was just, but I will tell you that these people, they have it coming to them. They are mostly men who chose to play their chances with fate, and they lose. That is not justice, no. But, nor is it human law. Do you understand?"

Blinking, I watched him. He did not move, and neither did I. "I do," I finally answered, not sure whether or not I should feel ashamed. Killing Jesse was neither justice nor in the prescriptions of human law. And yet, I truly believed a monster like him had it coming. "But, that means, then, that we have it coming, too. For we are nothing better than monsters."

"Perhaps not me, child, but you are yet better. Think on why you commit an act. Many of those who lose when they play with us, they act out of greed. They are human monsters, losing more of themselves each day. Some of us act because that is all we are, sociopaths. Yet, still, some work with us because they have families to protect, children that need specialized attention or they will die, wives who, like your own, are threatened by an outside force. You give in a little to your monster. That is all."

I shook my head, my intuition happily accepting but my ethos protesting quite heavily. "But, the law – Damien, if someone is threatening, do we not have a duty to go through legal means?"

He smiled again, and I found myself staring at the part between his lips. "Yet, you did not."

"The law failed me."

"It fails many."

He had a valid point. It failed more than it helped, though it did a great deal of good. For every one perpetrator behind bars, a hundred others roamed free. For every one caught, another, somewhere, was released. There was a certain kind of gratification knowing that for all the work I put in, people who were more than mere criminals, rapists, murderers, were going away for a long time. But, I had tried death penalty cases. I had even won the death sentence on one particular criminal. There was a greater sense of satisfaction that good had been done that day. Though, he was still on death row and still in the appeals process, and it was that which killed me. Jesse was a truly evil man. I felt no shame in asking for his death. But, were all of those the Bratva killed under the same hat? Did those murderers deserve to walk free? But, if they didn't, why, then, did I?

I didn't. And, that was how they had gotten me. This was my punishment, and, if ever I was caught, prison would be my punishment. I would not be put to death, but I could spend the rest of my life in prison. I had fallen into a new category, and it marveled me as much as it frightened me. It was as exciting as it was dreadful, and that was different. That was strange and new, and I didn't know what to think of it beyond that I had never before imaged myself in these shoes. I had never thought in all of my wild imaginings that this was where I would someday sit.

"My question," he reminded me. "Why did you say yes?"

"You threatened my wife and child, Damien. What choice did you leave me?"

"For the price of many? Come, Alexandra, do not think that you can deceive me. You thought of more than just Casey and Temperance when you agreed to our terms. Then, you chose to up the ante, not any of us. You have a more honest reason, dark though it may be." I had thought about more than just my family. I wanted it, but I had also considered what it meant to loose people who had no qualms about killing back into the city. Then again, there weren't that many homicides in Manhattan. There were, but there weren't. It kept the bureau in business, but it didn't overpower it so much that it was impossible. We were fighting a losing battle, but that was its own problem.

I bit my lip, trying to decide how much I wanted the table cloth to spontaneously burst into flame. "It was the lesser of two evils," I answered. "I refuse to abandon my family, even for my own safety. If I had refused your offer to work for you and remain with the marshals, you would have turned me in for working for you anyway. They were looking into me for that because of my father and my uncle. So, I was screwed either way. At least in New York under the Bratva, I can be with Casey and Temperance." I slouched in the chair so that it looked very unladylike, but I did not give a shit.

"Truth, child. All of it." Damien frowned at me. I felt like a was a kid being scolded again by my nanny for some kind of shenanigan that I had gotten into. She was a sweet and darling woman, but I did give her a run for her money when I wasn't sick.

"What do you want me to say, Damien?" I asked with a sigh as I played with my water glass. I hadn't been there when it was poured, so I didn't trust it, and even then, in this place, it was iffy. I didn't really trust anything in that restaurant.

The man across the table lay his arms out on the table. "Alexandra, don't get cute," he chided.

"Don't talk to me like that. You lost that right, Damien."

"To what? To be your uncle? It never seemed to be a problem before. I am still the same person. You're the one that's changed." He placed one hand over mine, and I withdrew the hand, though not quick enough. He caught my wrist and pulled my fingers towards him. At the risk of making a scene and being throttled again, I allowed him to examine my fingers. His focus went to my ring, the one Casey had bought and hidden in a locket so that when I figured out how to access her heart, I found the proposal. The heart was still around my neck in much the same way that it was a rare day Casey left the house without her locket and bracelet.

He released my hand, but I left it sitting on the table, his fingers touching the inlaid design. "It is beautiful," he remarked. "Have you told her?"

"No," I admitted. "She doesn't need the stress."

"Would she love you any less if she knew?"

Chewing on my lip, I shrugged. "Love me less? No." It was the other things that concerned me, though. "Nothing I could do would make her love me less. Prosecuting me would be another story. She would do her job, regardless of the defendant."

"You seem so sure of that, Alex."

I tugged my hand away from his exploring fingers, setting it in my lap, the fingers of my other hand twisting the engagement band. "I am."

"I think it is that you want to be. You want her to have better ethics than you, but does she?" I blinked. "I mean it, Alexandra. If given the opportunity, would she have taken a different path?" I didn't know. "I think that you have trouble putting other people on high pedestals that you will never attain and attempt to attain them. You've always been somewhat unhappy in your life. Do you not ever wonder if it is because you are deluded?"

"I am not unhappy," I protested before I sighed. It was so feeble to protest. How was it that he had managed to make me a child again in just over an hour. I was being defiant to be defiant. I wasn't acting myself. Then again, I hadn't been myself for some time. I still felt incredibly vulnerable, and it was starting to show. I hated that. I hated being made childish, though the man had undoubtedly rocked me to sleep countless times with a bottle.

There were distinct memories that I held of him helping me to learn to ride a bike, running down the block behind me as I screamed in a combination of terror and thrill. I remembered falling and biting my lip so hard that it bled and Damien was the one to pick me up and dust me off, clean me up, and put ice on my mouth until the bleeding stopped. When I was sick, he held me, and when I was really sick, I didn't think he left my room. When I was well, he would package me in a blanket, toss me over his shoulder and go for hikes around the living room or his office, me bouncing and squealing at his back. My childhood was far from depraved, and it was Damien who had made me feel safe and warm and wanted as my parents worked ungodly hours.

It wasn't that my parents weren't a part of those memories. My mother was usually on the couch with a cup of coffee in her hands and a book. There were times that I would curl up with her, and she would read to me or I would read to her. My father taught me the value of working despite my seemingly unlimited ties to money. I would haunt his office and read over his shoulder. He would attend my rugby matches along with my mother and Damien. He wasn't a bad father, but as a child, I had preferred to spend time with my uncle if given the option. Of course, I wasn't given the option very often. More frequently, it seemed I was sick.

In so many ways, it was awkward sitting across the table from the man who had partaken in raising me. I was in a similar position of power, but for a different reason. It was strange. And frightening. And thrilling. It was a rush as much as I was afraid. There was no way this was going to go over very well. Even if I played their game, I was sure karma would catch up to me. One very real outcome of this was that Casey would leave me and take our daughter if she found out. I was coming down on the very thing that we both held close. I might as well have betrayed her. I might end up in prison, in which case she would find out. Or, something bad would happen, and she would find out. Even if nothing bad happened, it was a big secret to keep between us. Could I live a double life and not clue her in? I didn't know. I knew it wasn't fair to her to keep the secret, but was it any more fair to tell her?

"Fuck. When did my life get so messed up?" I mumbled.

Damien laughed.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt a hand around my shoulder, the arm resting against my back. Damien hugged me to him. "Come now, Alexandra. Don't be foolish. You were never good at normal."

Once I realized what I was doing, I yanked myself from him, wiping my eyes. "I don't want normal. I just want Casey and Temperance to have a good life. I want my daughter to have every opportunity afforded to-" I stopped talking, my voice caught in my throat.

"To whom, Alex?" Damien asked, looking down at me patiently.

I hung my head in shame, unable to meet his eyes. He made me feel like such a child. It was ridiculous. I had an answer, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of verbalizing it. I wanted Temperance to have every opportunity afforded to-

Me.

And, I knew at what cost that had come to give me the chance I had and put me into my position. I had been put into my position by the very people who now wanted their payment, payment I could give while still reaping the benefits. Only my morals suffered this cause. Why was I complaining?


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thanks, as always, for the reads and reviews. Sorry it took so long to update. Hopefully, the drama will make up for it? Anyways, reads, reviews, and thank yous. :) **

I didn't bother staying for dinner. There was no point. I wouldn't eat it, and Damien and I were done talking. I had nothing left to say, and I did not have the emotional perseverance to tolerate hearing anything further. I was burnt out, and I just wanted to go home, snuggle on the couch with a pajama clad child, read a book, tuck her into bed, and then cuddle in my own bed with Casey. Well, Casey's bed, but I thought we were at a point where neither of us really had anything that was not shared. She still wore my clothes. In fact, that morning, to work, she had gone in one of my suits.

Tony took my home in silence. At least he knew better than to ask about the meeting. Or, maybe he had already known how it had gone. I wasn't exactly prepared to be stoic, and I distanced myself by staring out of the window, my knee drawn to my chest. He pulled up to the front door, and I got out. "Just, stay. Thanks for the ride, Tony."

"You gonna be alright, Al?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Like I've got a choice." I exhaled slowly as I closed the door and watched him drive away. I chewed at the inside of my lip before I walked into the front lobby, my mask as frozen and stiff as I could possibly make it.

"Hey Danielle," I greeted the guard at the front desk. All of the NYPD officers who moonlighted at the apartment complex were incredibly sweet and friendly. I appreciated everything they did. "How are you?"

"Doing alright. What about you?"

"I'll just be happy to finally get home," I mumbled with a smile.

"Casey's not home yet," Danielle said. "I guess she took Temmy out to dinner."

I nodded. "Alright. Thanks, Danielle. If you don't mind, I'm just going to head up."

"You're not offending anyone, Alex. Take advantage of the quiet while you can."

Smiling, I swiped my card to call the elevator. "Thanks," I said, stepping into the bar and heading up. Maybe the quiet would be nice. I could use some space to just think, as dangerous as it was for me to do so.

Flopping down on the couch, I closed my eyes. Drifting off was easy. I actually didn't have the energy to think or to reflect on the situation, and it made me almost unconscious instantaneously from merely closing my eyes. I didn't dream. I just slept in the hollow of my mind, everything a nice, quiet blank.

Without warning, I startled. I bolted upright from where I had passed out on the couch to a dark apartment. I glanced around me. It was gone ten, and there seemed to be no sign of Casey or Temperance. I hadn't heard them come in, though it was possible that I had slept through their entrance entirely.

As my heart slowed down, I checked into the bedroom. The bed was still made. Nothing seemed to be touched. I slipped into the baby's room wondering if Casey had put the baby to bed and then had to go out for a case. Temperance's bed was empty as well. Confused and more than a little concerned, I dug my cell phone out of my work bag and called Casey's, checking the kitchen for some kind of note telling me where Casey had gotten off to.

Panic set into my throat as I heard a faint tinkling from the bedroom that sounded suspiciously like Casey's ringtone. "Casey?" I called, following the sound to Casey's phone under the night stand. I had to get down on my hands and knees and stretch to reach the phone. Picking up her phone, I turned it over in my hand. The phone had managed to find its way under the night stand, and that was very unusual. Casey was usually more careful with her phone, and she was unlikely to go anywhere. Even if she had to respond to a call from the detectives, she was meticulous about taking her phone with her.

Temperance, too, knew better than to play with anyone's phone. I could feel the panic rising like bile in my throat. I went after my second phone, my 'work' phone, and called Tony, my throat closing tightly. He picked up sounding more than a little irritated, but I really didn't care. "It's Alex, Tony. Where's Casey and Temperance?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, still sounding grumpy but a little more alert.

"I mean where are they? They didn't come home tonight, and Casey left her cell phone here. Don't fuck around with me, Tony. If you know something, tell me. Tell me now."

"Fuck, Alex, I don't know where they are. My supervisors would not have picked her up mysteriously. That's not how they operate." He was right. They operated on fear, on the fear of knowing who had control. They wouldn't take them without telling me because they banked on my fear of them to control me, not my fear in general.

Groaning, I hung up on him and threw the phone on the bed. Running my fingers through my hair, I looked around me, trying to think. I was a smart woman, I could figure this out. It wasn't like it was difficult at all. Sighing, I spun around, staring at the still made bed with the phone in the middle of it, an awkward indentation. The phone started vibrating, and I felt bad for hanging up on Tony. I was just scared and frustrated and had no idea what was going on. But, it was gone ten, and Casey should have been back to the house by then. Even going to dinner, she should have taken her cell phone with her. If she had lost it, she would have left a note. Wouldn't she? We were both walking on a sword of paranoia, I knew she would consider that before taking off somewhere, especially since Temperance was concerned.

"Tony, I really can't talk," I snapped into the phone.

"Shut up, then. When's the last time you saw her?"

"Dropping Tee off this morning at daycare."

"This guy, is there any way he could have gotten to them?" The lump in my throat solidified, sinking into my stomach and taking all of the blood in my face with me. I had been fearing it, but to hear it was entirely different. "I'll take that silence as a yes. Did she ever return home after work?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"I found her cell phone in the room. The apartment is immaculate, Tony. But, I know she had her phone with her today at work." Why? Because we had been texting almost non-stop throughout the day.

"Okay. What's her last incoming call?"

"Me," I said, scrolling through the contacts.

"And her last outgoing?"

"Tee's school," I said. "At five fifteen, when we normally pick her up."

"I know it's late, but do you have the number to any of the teachers at her school?"

"Yea. In Casey's phone." Casey had told me that her teacher had babysat for her on more than one occasion because she hadn't wanted to overburden Jake and Maddie.

I could hear the frustration in Tony's voice as he walked me through what I should have known to do all along. "Call her, Alex, and ask her if she remembers when Casey picked Temperance up."

I nodded, dialing off of Casey's phone. "Hang on," I told Tony.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered after several rings. My heart was pounding in my throat.

"Morgan? This is Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak's wife, Temperance Novak's mother. I'm sorry to wake you up, but it's really important. I need to know when Casey picked Temperance up from school today."

"She didn't," the voice answered, sounding more alert. The panic must have been heavier in my voice than I thought. "Maddie picked her up with Matt at about six. Why? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yea. Casey forgot her phone, and I was just worried. Silly me."

"Does this have anything to do with Temperance's father?" Morgan asked me.

I sank onto the bed. "Possibly. That's the worst case scenario at this point. I'm trying to talk to everyone I can think of before then." And, I needed to call Maddie and Jake and see if they still had Temperance. Or, if they didn't, how long ago Casey had picked her up.

"Alex, honestly, let me know if I can help with anything. Tem's a sweet kid, and you are a sweet family."

"Thanks, Morgan. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you." I hung up, sucking on my lip. Maybe Temperance was okay, then. I knew it wasn't the ideal, but at least one of my girls was safe. As long as Madison and Jake had her, anyway.

"Tony?" I said into my other phone, juggling the three phones as I looked up Maddie's cell in my phone.

"I'm still here, Alex. No luck?"

"No. I'm going to try the couple Casey had babysitting the baby. I hate to sound foolish and ask, but can you come over?"

"I'm already halfway there. I'll be about ten."

"Don't hang up," I squeaked, terror still hard in my stomach. I had to find them. I just had to. Best case, Casey had taken Temperance out for the night and had gotten caught up somewhere. It was incredibly unlikely, as the minutes ticked by, that she would be out so late with the baby and work the following day. Worst case, Jesse had made his move before I could make mine. I just didn't understand why then, why that night? I thought of something in between, maybe a car accident where both Casey and Temperance wound up in the hospital. Since I had shown back up in Casey's life, both of us carried in our wallets copies of the custody order granting both Casey and myself custody over Temperance. It was more a precaution should anything happen to one of us while with the child that would enable emergency workers to contact the other parent. Since gay marriage and gay adoption were both illegal in New York, the order signed by the federal judge was the closest we had to calling Temperance our daughter in terms of the law. Technically, a hospital ought to have contacted me if Temperance were hurt or if she were fine but Casey was hurt. Then again, that assumed Casey had her wallet on her.

As I waited for Maddie to pick up, I began tearing apart the room. My first stop was the closet where Casey kept her purse and briefcase. The briefcase was there, but the purse was not. It gave me hope. Maybe she really had gone out. Maybe the phone had slide from her bag. For a second, I could breathe again.

"Al?" Madison mumbled, sounding awake but relaxed.

"Maddie, did Casey pick Tem up from you and Jake?"

"Yea. Around seven. She said she was super sorry, her meeting ran late. Why?"

I felt my throat constrict as I made my way back to the coat closet, opening the door, looking for other clues that Casey had left with the intention of returning. On the top shelf, beside my weekend handbag, was Casey's bag. Shaking, I reached up and pulled the bag down. It was heavy, and I knew she carried a lot in the bag. Both our bags were filled with toddler related material from Pull Ups to toys to wipes to our own wallets. It took several tries, but I finally managed to speak. "Maddie, did she say where she was taking Tee?"

"She mentioned something about picking up some deserts for the two of you tonight, after Temperance went to bed. Alex?"

I felt myself collapse to the floor, my legs unable to hold me up. I had two voices shouting my name over two different cell phones, and I could not bring myself to answer either one. Someone was repeating the word no, but I didn't know who even though logic dictated it had to be me. It didn't sound like me. Nothing sounded like me. Nothing sounded like anything. There was just this strange, buzzing chant in my head. "Casey," I squeaked. "Temperance."

"Alex, you have to listen to me. I pulled up out front. Come down and let me in. Buzz me in. Whatever you have to do so I can come up. Jesus, kid. Pull yourself together."

Easier said than done.

Still, I managed, on wobbly legs, to stand and open the door. I nearly spilled into the hallway, but I managed to get to the elevator, leaning heavily on the wall. "Maddie, I'll call you back later." I hung up that phone. Into the other, I said, "Tony, I'm headed down in the elevator right now. Just let the desk guy know you'll be riding back up with me." I hung up that phone just before the elevator dinged.

Leaning on the door to keep it open, I gestured for Tony to enter. He did, and the door slid shut behind him. "They're gone," I murmured. "He took them."

"Okay, Alex. You have to focus to get them back. Did you call the cops?" I shook my head. In everything, I had not thought to do that. "Okay, do you have any that you trust with your life? Someone or someones who can get shit done, Alex, and be quiet? If they're with this Jesse guy, the last thing you wanna do is spook him."

"Don," I said, the first name that came to mind. I trusted everyone in the squad, but I trusted Don to bring me my family back. "Don Cragen, he's the captain of Special Victims."

"Okay. When we get back to the apartment, you call him. Tell him what happened and who you think has her. I already put in a few phone calls. People are movin' out there, Alex. We will get them back." I swallowed a sob, desperately trying to fight to keep my composure. I was losing miserably, but Tony was kind enough to not say anything.

It took a few seconds for me to realize the elevator had stopped moving. I was bare footed in pajamas, running around the apartment building. If my mother could see me now, she would not approve, even under the circumstances. Very loving woman, but her priorities were wrong. Or, maybe the other half of my parentage really and truly disturbed her. I didn't know. I couldn't tell. I just wanted my own daughter back, my wife in my arms again. "Alex," Tony chided, tugging my hand.

I snapped out of my spell and walked forward, again, leaning against the wall like it was the last thing that could possibly save my life. Tony managed to loop one of his arms around my waist and help guide me down the hall. My vision was blurry from the stress, black spots flecking around violently. I was entirely unstable, and I didn't know if I was going to cry or cry and scream. I was grateful for the aid, no matter how little I might admit to it.

Tony set me down on the couch in the living room. "Call Don. I mean it. Do you know where he would have taken her?" I shook my head, calling the captain's number.

"Cragen," a voice mumbled.

"Don, it's Alex," I said, giving it a moment to sink in, my voice shaking and terrified. I had lost the battle for the cool Cabot composure and was struggling to maintain my ability to speak at that point. Fortunately, I could feel the anger slipping in, the anger that had been my companion since I was a child, and I let it drench my soul because I knew I could keep cool when I Was angry. When I felt hatred or anger, I was always calm. The makings of a politician.

It did. "Alex? Why are you calling from a local number?"

"I'm in New York, Don. Casey's missing. She never came home tonight." For a brief moment in time, I had forgotten that Don Cragen did not know. As far as I knew, only Olivia knew Casey and I were dating, though from what Casey had told me, Fin apparently had strong suspicions. It was possible that Casey had said something to the other detectives and never mentioned it to me, but my heart jumped in my throat when I realized that I might have to back up and explain myself.

Either Don knew, or he didn't feel that it was the right time to ask because all he said was, "Alex, what do you mean?"

Trembling, I clutched the couch cushion. "Did she tell you all about Jesse? We think he might have been going to Temperance's school and visiting her. Staff found out on Monday, and I think they've been extremely cautious with her since then. Casey and Temperance aren't at the apartment, Don, but Casey's cell phone and her purse are." My stomach was twisting as I stared up at Tony. I tried to focus on his face so that I would not pass out or lose my faculties completely. I willed myself to get angry. I needed to be angry. The bastard took my family.

"She came down and mentioned that. I'll call the squad, and we'll meet up at the station." I could hear him moving around wherever he was, and I suspected that he would be true to his word. "Are you coming in?"

"I can't," I said, still staring at Tony. "I've got to go in with an agent who worked my case. Jesse's warrant is a federal one, and it's for kidnapping Casey once already in conjunction with a federal crime. They're going to want a bite on this, too, and, frankly, the more people who are looking, the better."

"Okay," he said, though I could tell he was hesitant about my answer. I could have let the federal agents I knew know, but I didn't see the point. One little girl of many would not be their primary concern. And, I didn't trust the Marshals even though they had let me free. "Do you have any idea where he would take her?"

"Last time, he drove her to some farm house far away from anything. My guess would be somewhere where there won't be nosy neighbors."

"So, anywhere in New York City?" he asked with a sigh.

"Yea, pretty much." I felt my heart sink. "He told Temperance to call him Daddy. Maybe he's got some family fantasy going in his head. But, in Colorado, when he took her, it was under the pretext to prevent her from testifying against David, but he's sexually obsessed with her, too. I don't know where he's staying or his phone number. I don't know anything about him beyond that. I'm sorry. I wish I knew more." It occurred to me then that the high alert the school had been in had probably tipped him off that something was wrong. Temperance had squeaked, and we had been on the look out. Maybe Temperance had seen him again and told him. Maybe she had called him the bad guy, like she did to Casey and I ever since I had corrected her. I had no doubt that he knew we had notified law enforcement, that people were looking for him. He had taken them because it had been his opportunity.

"Okay, Alex. Is this a good number to reach you?"

"Yes."

"I'll call you when we're at the station if we need anything else. We'll start with local area hospitals in case it was something more mundane, but we'll look for him, too. And, Alex?"

"Yea?" I missed the captain. He was always so soothing. I felt better talking to him. Maybe it was the way he talked. Maybe it was that I was finally more angry than I was afraid, that the wave of anger was beating back the fear, consuming it, making it a part of its anger.

"How involved are you with Casey?"

"Don, keep me out of the picture with the detectives. If I find him first, I'm -" I paused, sucking in air. "I don't want them to know if I find him first."

"Alex, evidence-"

"No bodies, I know."

"I'll call you if we learn anything." He didn't try to talk me out of it. Maybe he thought that I wouldn't really kill him. Maybe he didn't know what I had meant, though I doubted that very much. He knew what I meant. Don was one of those incredibly wise people who never show how wise they really are. He knew what I meant. Maybe he just thought reason would settle before it was too late to turn back.

I hung up the phone, clutching it to my chest. "I asked almost three days ago for the Bratva to kill Jesse, Tony," I said. "Damien gave me the chance to back out, and I didn't take it. He must have known I wouldn't. How much does he know about Jesse?"

"You can ask him yourself," Tony said, his hand on mine. "He's asked me to bring you to him. He's going to need information from you, as much as you know, to find her. But, Alex, we're very good at finding people who do not want to be found."

"Casey wants to be found," I protested, though I knew he was talking about Jesse. People did not escape the Russians. If the brotherhood wanted them dead, they wound up dead. That was why Damien had put me in homicide. He had pulled his strings, and then I was where they needed me. There was no doubt in my mind that Malachai was the operational front. It was Damien who actually held the power. And, it was Damien to whom I would attend to help me.

It wasn't that I didn't trust SVU to locate their missing ADA, but with less than seventy two hours having passed, there was little they could officially do. I knew Olivia and Fin would be out hunting her down. Elliot and Munch, too, but their resources were constrained by the law. First and foremost, they answered to the law. I should have answered to the law. But, the man before me, him and his comrades, they answered first and foremost to themselves. Their own rules and laws were born of their own needs which meant societal rules and laws from the realm in which they lived, they did not constrain themselves to such things. They did what they felt was necessary. A different set of rules, not a subset governed by a higher power. Damien was his own higher power, his own under Ivankov, the mastermind who sat in prison for some sort of financial evasion charges or something equally mundane. Never murder. They would never be caught for it. There was a certain kind of immunity to the law if one was not caught. If one was not caught, then the law did not apply.

"Then, we'll find her."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Aww. Thanks for the reads and reviews. Hopefully, this answers some of your questions. **

_12:15 AM: 5 Hours Missing_

I stood in the middle of the living room of the house in Queens, shaking so badly that it hurt. My hands were wrapped around my shoulders, balled up into fists. I had been in the house for almost an hour, Damien and Malachai both there, in the kitchen, arguing. I had no idea what they were arguing over or if it were even remotely related to my current crisis. In part, I was busy fielding calls from Cragen, who had apparently truly not told the squad about my involvement. I think he really thought I might kill Jesse. The less who knew, the better, I supposed. It would do the detectives no good to know and not report and me know good if they knew and tried to stop me. Or worse, had to decide whether or not to arrest me after. At this point, I was going for premeditated murder. In New York, that would be death penalty eligible. At least, it would be until legislation decided on the bill currently circulating aiming to abolish the death penalty. I was not waiting to kill the bastard until after I could take a life sentence. Truth was, I was not planning on getting caught. I was planning on killing him, then getting rid of the evidence.

But, I was planning on killing him nonetheless. It was strange, I didn't feel cruel about it. There was just this cold emptiness inside me where I thought there should have been a voice of reason telling me that by killing him, I was no better than he was. But, the thing was, I didn't care if I was better than he was or not. I could have been the bigger monster for all I cared. All I knew was that if he hurt Casey or Temperance, I would kill him. I did not then know how I would kill him, only that I would. Torture, I did not think I could do, but to put the rabid dog out of its misery and mine, I would put him down.

The only other person in the room looked at me with a strange concern. He was Ivan Krisnov, I had learned, the family physician. They had called him in, not for Casey or Temperance, but, from what I could gather, for me. It seemed Damien's worry was that I would snap and go into a psychosis. I did not feel very far from it, though I had to admit I had been in a great deal of situations where I should have snapped and did not. My hope was I could keep it together long enough to ensure the safety of my family. I could snap after Jesse was dead. I could scream and cry then. In the mean time, I was as stoic as I could possibly get. Which, considering the circumstances, I had to think that I was doing alright. I could stand a little shaking if the cost was that I was not screaming.

I wanted so badly to scream.

A knock on the door made me jump, and I hurried forward, checking the peephole before opening the door. "Tony," I murmured to the man on the stoop. He was wet. It had been raining outside since around eleven, and being that it was just gone midnight, I was not surprised he was almost soaked. "What's going on? What are Damien and Malachai doing?"

"Whoa, hold your horses, Alex. I just got here. Fill me in, first?"

"They're in the kitchen arguing. Why did you leave?" I demanded. I was a pushy person, but more so when I was afraid. And, I was terrified.

"Eich. Damien, Malachai. They're always arguing," Tony grumbled, taking off his jacket and hat. I took them and laid them out by the beautiful log fire place. Damien had started a fire because I had been so cold, though the heat from the flames did nothing to warm my cold. "One day, one of them will kill the other. I just don't know when. And, I was trying to track Casey through Jesse's known movements. He's a hard bastard to find, you know."

I blinked at him, even my eye movements pointed and demanding. "Tony, the point," I snapped, curling beside his jacket, my back to the fire. I wondered if Casey were okay. Was she warm? Was she scared? What about Temperance?

"He's got a couple of places nearby. One in Manhattan proper. One out by Jersey. Can't get a cell phone on him. Darius tried that earlier with no luck. Donovan just does not want to be found."

"You said you could find people like that," I pushed, my thread running thin.

Tony nodded. "And, I can. We can. But, the effect is not instantaneous."

"Make it that way," I snapped, my nails raking through my hair as I rocked forward, trying to contain my anger. It was leaking out, I was leaking out, and I watched the doctor sit a little straighter, watched his eyes dart to his medicine bag. "Don't you fucking move. I'm liable to blow your fucking head off."

"Alex, you don't have a gun," Tony said.

"You know that?" I barked.

For Tony's sake and Ivan's, Damien and Malachai were fortunate to chose that moment to enter the room. "Alex, you need to calm down. You aren't helping the situation."

"Oh, 'cause you two bickering in the kitchen really did?" I yapped. I wanted to yell and scream and hurt myself. The last might have sounded strange, but it was true. I wanted to hurt myself, to remind myself that this was real. Or else, to wake myself from this terrible nightmare. I so wanted it to all be a bad dream. I wanted Casey to walk in and kiss me awake on the couch and tell me to go to bed.

Damien touched me, and I swung at him. I was on my feet, hitting him, beating against his chest with my fists. I was not a weak woman. I knew he was feeling the blows. He stepped back more than once, and I followed, but he stayed standing even as I lost some of my energy. My fists quickly included his shirt as I clutched against him. He held me to him, petting my head and back as I leaned against him, smacking him faintly every few seconds with my hand as though it were more automatic than deliberate. And, it probably was. All I remembered was the wash of pain that consumed me in that moment. "Now what?" I asked, my voice trembling and low.

"We wait," Damien said, his voice sad. "There are very skilled people right now looking for her. We wait until they do their job."

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"Could be days. I don't know. It depends on whether or not this Jesse plays the game better or worse than we do. I have every faith in my men that we play the game better." He held me, silencing me as I opened my mouth again. His arms wrapped tighter as I tried to pull away. "You have told your police friends that she is missing?"

"Yes," I said, nodding against his chest.

"Then, Jesse will lose. If not to us, then to them."

I nodded, standing in silence for a minute in his arms. Then, I closed my eyes and let out a slow, even breath, the anger pushing back at my cage. "I want to kill him, Damien," I said.

He did not respond. He only stood there, still holding me, petting my hair over and over. I could hear the flames dancing in the fireplace behind me, the breath going in and out of the lungs of those around me. At least, that was what it seemed, the silence in the room was so profound. Then, after several long minutes, Damien tipped my chin to his face, and I stared up into his golden-gray eyes. "Then, I will give you the gun."

_2:40 AM, 7.5 Hours Missing_

Don called for the second time in twenty minutes. Olivia wanted to go through the apartment to see if she could find any clues as to what had happened when Casey went missing.

"That's the thing, Don, she didn't go missing from the apartment. I think he got to her before that. It's the only logical explanation. The guards at that front desk are all NYPD. They all know Casey's story. They have a picture of Jesse at their desk with instructions to dial for back up if he ever shows up. They would not let him in, no matter what Casey said or did. She could give him permission, Don, and Danielle would still probably shoot him in the knee cap. I mean, they all hate him for what he did to her, and no one is that dense to think Casey would have a consensual relationship with him, even just a friendly one. The things he did to her, Don, I don't even know. She hasn't told me everything, but she's told me enough."

Don sighed. "Alex, explain her cell phone and bag still being there."

"The apartment is immaculate. I don't know. Maybe she was in the apartment afterward. Maybe the phone and bag were her way of asking for help."

"If she were in the apartment alone, wouldn't she have done something more than that, Alex? Casey's a smart woman. She could have called 9-1-1 then or left a note saying she had been kidnapped or even sent you a text message. Or Olivia or any of the detectives."

I sank down onto the floor. I hadn't been able to leave the house since Tony had dropped me off, though he periodically came and checked on me. I was learning first hand how the large criminal organizations continuously outsmarted and outsourced law enforcement. "I don't know Don. I don't know. Maybe she wasn't alone. Maybe she couldn't do any of those things. Jesse's never had her alone. The first time, he had Tommy, David, and Andy with him. The second, just Andy. He's a ring leader, Don, a sociopath. But, I think he needs someone there with him. Someone just like or almost like him. Can't you call Huang and ask for a favor? I don't know about the psychology of criminals. I just know the law."

"I've already called him. He's in California right now on FBI business, but he said he would look into it. I'll pass along what you just told me. Alex, if there's two people involved, then we're looking at a whole new range of possibilities. I don't need the explanation right now, but do you live with Casey?"

"Yes. I'm on the lease, too. You and Olivia have full permission to go into that apartment. But, Don, you two are the only ones that know I live with her. You're the only one who knows I'm in New York. If it'll help, you can bring in the guys, but I don't know how it'll help. And, if I – the less people who know, the better."

"Alex, you're not really thinking of putting a gun to his head."

"Both of them," I growled. "Don, I have no forgiveness in my heart for him. I have nothing but this cold, empty feeling inside of me. Were it not Casey, I would play by the law. But, it is, Don. It's Casey. And, it's Temperance. And -" I stopped, cutting myself off. My chest was tight, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe.

"And love is a powerful force. I know, Alex. Believe me, I know."

"I don't want to put them in jeopardy of losing their job. If I go to prison, Don, that's one thing. I will not drag someone else down with me."

"Alright," the captain agreed. "I take it Olivia knows about your relationship?"

"Yes. But, unless Casey told anyone else, she's the only one."

"I'll have her go through your apartment, then. She can pick up and view the video footage that evening. We will contact the daycare first thing in the morning and see if we cannot retrieve any security footage there as well. I take it you haven't told her you're in town."

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "No. Maybe after all is said and done, but not right now. The less anyone knows, Don."

"Why do I get the feeling you're playing with fire?"

I smiled. He was always so perceptive. I wish I could have said right then how much I appreciated him, but I couldn't. Saying it would have felt too final, like I were saying goodbye and falling over to the darkness that I could feel reaching up within me. It was the voice inside that said the law was for the weak, and I was not weak. It was the voice that I had suppressed when choosing to prosecute, to even go into criminal law at all. It was the voice I had heard in Romania as I had observed from my privileged, white American perch as those who I believed ought to be protected were violated by the law. But, what if the law was unable to protect those who needed it?

The law was not about justice, retribution, or revenge. The law was about making others toe the line, forcing animals to behave in a non-animal manner. Well, there was more than one way to do that. Most predatory animals preserved the rule of law with violence and force. If another animal stepped out of line, they were met with a harsh paw and snap of teeth. We were the only predators that utilized segregation. But, that did not work for every infraction. Maybe I had colored inside of the lines for too long, and this was my rebellion. Maybe it just needed to be done. Someone had to put that mutt down, and I was not one to ask of others that which I was not willing to do myself. Oh, I liked to keep my hands clean, but perhaps my biggest lesson in all of this was that my heart had always carried within it the capacity for darkness. I knew it my whole life. My hands were far from clean as it was. The blind eye I had turned to get my way when it suited me. I used the law. And, for this, I would break it.

"Was that the police?" Damien asked as he sat on the floor beside me. I nodded. "What are they going to do?"

"They'll check the apartment for anything I missed. The guard will let Olivia in. Not a big deal. How much longer?"

"I do not know, Alex." His face fell as I drew my knees to my chest. "I do not know much about Jesse." I hadn't expected him to. There had not been much I could give him, either. "He's been off the radar for three years. We will find him. It'll just take longer."

"How has he been surviving? Working, you know? With a federal warrant?" I was confused. Thinking was not my strong suit.

"If it were me, I would be working under an alias. I know people, Alex, who work for hire and they do not care which side they work for. It would not surprise me to find that Jesse has been among that group of people."

I sighed. "I want them back, Damien."

"I know, child." He pulled me into his lap, and I went, curling against him, my head on his chest. I felt like a little kid again, protected. Everything would be alright. Uncle Damien was there.

Standing up, I paced the living room, my arms wrapped tightly about my body. "Can't I do anything?" I asked. They had mostly left me alone in the room with the physician. I had not spoken much to him, but he didn't seem to mind. Damien and Malachai and two men I did not know occupied the kitchen. I could tell they were planning and plotting and arguing, but I knew little more than that. Tony came in and out from time to time that first hour, but I had not seen him since one thirty. The resources used, I did not know. I just wanted to do something, anything, to help bring my family back.

_6:30 AM, 11.5 Hours Missing_

"You have to go to work," Damien said. "You let in that something's wrong, people will start asking. You're blessed enough that one cop doesn't ask questions. The more people who know about this, the more difficult you will make it for my people to work. Wherever he has taken them, it is not somewhere close by. We could be talking a different state, Alexandra. You really trust this to the federal government? This is the same government that accused you of working for us before you even knew who we were."

I groaned. "No, I don't trust them. I don't trust anyone." I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but I knew I would not sleep until I had my wife and child back in my arms. "What's wrong with adding one more lion to the picture, though? That's what I don't understand." We had been arguing for nearly an hour about me calling one of the agents I knew. Jack Hammond would be all over it, I knew.

"Have you ever seen prey cornered? If too many people come at him, and he stops thinking he can get away, he will kill her, Alex. He will kill them both. They are baggage weighing him down if he needs to run. As long as he does not need to flee, he will keep them alive. I know men like this, Alexandra. Better than you."

Biting my lip, I thought about that. He was right in that respect. And, he knew far more about people like Jesse than I did. He was a person like Jesse, though he had a code, which I did not think Jesse did. Both of them were sociopaths, but they were still like different breeds of sociopaths. Damien truly was in control. Jesse grasped to the illusion of control. He was, above all else, psychotic. "So, you want me to go play the good politician?"

"Yes," Damien said. "Go do your job. We will still be here, searching. And, if there is anything that appears promising, I will have you picked up."

I chewed off one nail completely before Damien reached forward and stopped me. His brows were raised, and I knew he was asking a silent question. I might not have trusted anyone completely, but did I trust him enough to do that? What choice did I have? I nodded, and he released my hand. "I need to shower and change my clothes."

"Upstairs, there is a bathroom attached to a bedroom. In the closet are clothes that should fit you. I will have someone take you by your apartment later this evening to pick up clothes and other necessities, but it might be best that you stay here until we find her."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, pulling away from him.

"It means that I do not need Jesse to take you, too. If Casey is fighting him, he may try to take you, to hurt you or kill you to gain her cooperation. It is only what I would do under the same circumstances." I stared at Damien, surprised by the level of honesty. I knew that was where he obtained his ideas about Jesse, from his own dark mind, but I had been able to ignore what had gone unsaid. Now that he had said it, it was a whole different story. "Do not look so hurt, Alexandra."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I am glad to have your insight."

"Good. Jim will keep an eye on you today. You underestimate the boy."

I shivered. Maybe I did.

_10:45 AM, 15.5 Hours Missing_

I threw the file across the room, the papers not clipped in scattering about. "I don't fucking care," I snapped at Jim. He was trying to rescue some poor junior ADA who I was close to firing only for the reason that I was so on edge everyone, including me, was close to losing their jobs in the unit. I was off the wall, and I knew it. I had cast her out of my office after lecturing her on warrants and minding her own business.

It was the first time I had worn my engagement band to the office. It had been a short sighted move on my part, but I had not wanted to leave it in the care of the brotherhood, and setting it in my desk drawer seemed too painful. I wore it. She had asked who I was engaged to. I had said the first name that had come to my mind, Casey's older brother who had been so immediately accepting of our relationship even though he was a Catholic priest. I had not wanted to say Casey because everyone in the office knew Casey Novak, SVU ADA, was missing from work that day and that everyone from the general docket was scrambling to cover the Special Victims docket. She had not called out, and SVU's report back to the DA was only that they had checked her apartment and had seen no sign of her, but that there was not obvious foul play. I was so grateful to my detectives, even though they did not know it. They were keeping a cool lid on it, though I could almost read the tension in the email from the DA asking for coverage until Casey returned. He had been so vague about when that would be. Rumors flew like embers in the wind, catching fire here and there.

So, I had said Robert. I was sure he would not mind if I ever had the opportunity to tell him. But, after I had given this fictitious man a name, the questions had come in, too. I had not liked the questions. I was a week into this job, and already, I knew I would have to tone it down. I had to make it up to them, but right then, I just was not up to it. My life was utter chaos.

I had also gotten the email that day that Jim was no longer just an ADA on my docket. He was apparently my Deputy which made him just below me in the pecking order. It wasn't that I didn't think he could do it. The more he put up with me, the more I thought he might survive, but it was frustrating. I was supposed to chose who filled that position. Granted, he had the most experience and, I had done my digging, the better conviction rate, but I still did not know that I liked him. And, yet, it was probably the best position to put him in. He could watch me for the Bratva. And, I could watch him for the same. He could control me. I could control him. In terms of the brotherhood, we were both perfectly placed. In terms of the office, it might save people in the long run.

To my utter surprise, Jim grabbed me and pulled me to him. I was too shocked to pull away, finding myself pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. "I know you're suffering, Alex," he murmured, "but that does not mean that these guys have to suffer as well. They're doing a good job. You don't want to let them in, that's fine, but they want to be recognized and heard. That's all. If you don't want to tell them about your life, fine. But, then you have no excuse for this kind of acting out."

I stared at his shirt, my fingers closing around the fabric between the buttons. "I can't do this, Jim. I can't lose them."

"You won't. I've been working for Damien a lot longer than you realize, and I know he'll find them. Just let him work."

"He sent me here to get me out of the way, huh?" I asked, gnawing at my lip. "Alright. Fine." I slipped from his arms and picked up the scattered file, putting the pages back in order with practiced ease. Then, tucking the folder against me, I went off in search for Christina, the young ADA I had chewed through mercilessly. I owed her an apology.

_3:00 PM, 20 Hours Missing_

I stared at the two detectives as they walked me through a case. It was an intake evaluation, and I sat with another ADA listening to the evidence and the theories.

"There's no way I can win this," I finally told them. "Not with this." I picked up the reports they were handing me and leafed through them, chewing at my lip. "I don't even know if a grand jury will indite." I shook my head, setting the reports back down.

The detective sighed. "We've done everything we could, Counselors. We understand if you lose, but isn't there enough to try? To make the point." The man was young, my age, and reminded me of, frankly, me. Wasn't that exactly what I had done? When had I lost my principles to the rage? That wasn't me. None of this past month had been me.

Cautiously, I picked up the file yet again and looked over it. I stared at the victim's picture for the longest time. I was losing myself, and in so doing, I was becoming something I did not like. Perhaps this could be my chance of redemption. I could be me for this one case, I could find myself, pull myself up again. Casey had even said it the night before she disappeared. She had told me I had changed, not that she didn't still love me, only that I was not the same person she had met in Santa Fe. I had told her I was lost. And, I was. I was sorely lost. My last night with her, and she had spent it holding me against her why I cried and refused to tell her why. I was still in there somewhere. I had to be. I couldn't lose myself to this situation, to everything that was happening to me.

More than anything, I stood for my principles regardless of the law. It was fortunate that more often, they aligned, but if I didn't make a stand on something, then what good was I as a person, as a lawyer? I met the young detective's eyes, holding his gaze in mine for just a moment.

"You'll take it?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'll take it. I won't win, but I'll go down fighting." He beamed, reaching across the table with his hand outstretched. I met him halfway in a firm shake. I would go down fighting. If I could not triumph, I would always go down fighting. It was who I was. Who I needed to be reminded I was.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Update two for the day. Thanks for the reads. And, I hope you enjoy this update, too. **

7:00_ PM, 24 Hours Missing_

I stared at the fire place. I had brought work to the house with me because I did not know what else to do, but for the past two hours, I had stared at the flames, unmoving. Tony had offered me crackers after I had refused dinner, but I couldn't eat. Not with Casey and Temperance out there, somewhere. I didn't know what was happening to them. It was raining again, and I didn't know if they were sheltered or soaking wet. I didn't know if they were warm. Were they shivering, trying to heat themselves? Had Jesse given them anything to eat? Had he hurt them? He had a thing for beating up on Casey, and I feared he might have done so again. In the back of my head, I had this image that wasn't quite complete. I couldn't force myself to truly see the image, but I knew what it was. It was Casey naked and curled at the end of a mattress, bruised, whimpering, yelping as officers tried to touch her to bring her to safety.

I could still feel the weight of her in my arms as I lifted her from the floor where she had sank. I could feel her turn into me, one arm around my neck, though too weak to truly hold on. The other arm was curled against her stomach. She moved against the bullet proof plate I wore over my chest, pushing her face into it. I could see her mouth moving, but she wasn't saying anything. She kept trying to speak, but she seemed unable to do so. If I closed my eyes, I could still see the dried blood on her legs. A bruise across her hip was already dark enough to make me wince. The things he had done to her in less than twenty four hours were brutal images that would haunt my mind forever.

Now, she had been last seen twenty four hours prior, though it was unclear whether or not he actually had her prior to that. My bet was that he did. He had her. He had something on her, over her head. And, he had made her go pick up Temperance from Maddie. I wondered if she had been in the apartment at five fifteen the previous day when she called the preschool. Had that call originated from the apartment? Had she asked Morgan to give Temperance to Maddie in an attempt to keep her safe? Had there been a second person in that apartment with Casey? Had he heard the conversation? Had he struck her? Was that how the phone had slid under the night stand?

There were so many questions that I had, and I had no answers. Olivia had torn through the apartment, but she had found nothing. The complex had given up the video footage, and Danielle apparently recalled Casey walking in with someone she had identified as her brother. He was average height, average build, brunette, Caucasian, wearing jeans and a button down shirt. I had not talked to Danielle, only to Don. It was the older man who had spoken with the officer who worked in the building. Danielle had told him that as far as she knew, I had left the night before with a man and had not returned. She was worried about me knowing that the police were involved with Casey's disappearance. I felt bad, but I didn't call the security office to reassure her that I was okay. Apparently. Don covered for me. He said he had told her that I had left with a federal agent.

Danielle recalled when they left, too, that Casey had said she and her brother would pick Temperance up and take the little girl to dinner since I had a late evening meeting. If I beat them back, would she pass on the information? And, she had. Don had emailed me a picture from the video camera of the man. They were unclear because he seemed to consistently have his head down. I could never quite see his face in all of the images sent over. I had turned the images over to Damien after telling the captain that I did not believe I knew the man.

And, then, I had sat down in front of the fire place, unable to work, unable to move. I felt someone pick up my hand, and I turned to face whomever it was. Damien was staring at me. "Alex," he said, his voice soothing as he knelt behind me, turning my hand over nad opening my fingers. "Take this. It will help you feel better."

"I want to be numb," I whispered, my fingers closing around the small white pill.

"It will dull the pain." I nodded, popping the pill into my mouth. He handed me a glass of water, and I swallowed it. I did not have the energy to fight him at that point. I didn't have the energy for anything. I had grand jury in less than a week, my work life continued to move forward, the world around me just kept spinning, though I didn't understand how any of it was possible. There I was, frozen in place, afraid, and the rest of civilization just kept turning around me.

_5:00 AM, 34 Hours Missing_

I did not remember falling asleep, only waking up in a bed, the sheets drawn up around my body. Slipping from the covers, I walked out of the room, stopping at the top of the stairs where I heard voices carrying up to me.

"How far are you willing to go for this?" Malachai's thick accented English carried better than the voices of most people I knew. He had the voice for a demanding leader. His persona fit the fire perfectly. Crouching on the first step, I wrapped my hands around the banister and did my best to not breathe. I felt like a child once more, eves dropping on the conversations of my parents late in the night. I remembered all too well the arguments my parents had, saying things I did not understand.

"It's not a matter of will but of need," Damien's more Europeanized English drifted. "How far do we need to go?"

"Fine, then. If that's how you like it, but what if she's already dead?" Malachai seemed disgruntled. Tony was right. They did always argue. "How are you going to win her over then?"

"I'm past winning her over, Malachai," Damien hissed. "This one isn't her. This one is me. Do you have a problem with that?"

The conversation bled over into Russian, and I no longer understood what was being said. I released the banister and wrapped my arms around myself. "Casey," I whispered. "Where are you? Where's our baby? When will I get to bring you home?"

I felt the steps shake a little before a hand rested on my shoulder, a warm body against mine as the two powerfully criminal Russians argued in their native tongue. "They will get him, Alex. They will bring them home."

"When?" I asked, my eyes flitting to the man's face. Ivan Krisnov was a lot more softly spoken than I had even thought possible for a Russian. But, then, he had been born and raised in America, his father a member of the brotherhood. The man was my senior by roughly three years, and when he held me, he held me like a brother might. I did not know him as I knew Damien, from my childhood. And, he did not seem to know much about me, either. He just held me, and I just let him. Of all the people surrounding me in the brotherhood, he was the one I knew wanted nothing from me. I was just a patient, one in terrible need of emotional support.

"I'm sorry." And, I knew he was.

I lay against him on the top stair of the house, listening to the heated Russian. A third party had joined in, voice much more calm than Damien and Malachai. It seemed on tone alone that he was trying to soothe the two hot headed powers. He didn't seem to be having much luck, but that did not bother me. Ivan was murmuring something, but I didn't understand it. It sounded like the same Russian that I heard from below, but it was softer, almost childish.

"What are you saying?" I whispered. "I don't speak Russian."

He didn't complain, only switched to English. "A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest. He was gathering pine cones and singing songs. A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead. The little bear got angry and stamped his foot!"

I snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, sitting up.

"Whatever you need it to mean, Alex," Ivan said. "It's just a children's rhyme, nothing more."

I looked down to the end of the stairs. I couldn't see the men who were now all yelling in the living room. The stairway did not allow for that. Instead, I looked at the grandfather clock as it sat, tall, regal, and proud, never bowing to another, ticking away. I had loved that clock as a child. It had been in my uncle's house, though I did not know if that were this same house. I had very few scattered memories as a child. I could not recall the entirety of the house in which I had believed my uncle had lived. I had only known that this was not the house I had grown up in. "Everything is something more," I murmured.

"Perhaps." He smiled at me, and I shook my head.

Leaning over, I kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Ivan," I whispered. "You don't know me, you owe me nothing, you expect nothing from me, and yet, here you are."

"It's the things we do for family," he said, standing up. He grasped my shoulder in his hand once and walked away, down the stairs.

"My patient is awake," he announced to the still bickering men. "She is getting ready and will be down shortly." Instantly, the arguing stopped. Cordial conversation resumed in English, and I blinked, awed by the power that my consciousness seemed to have over them. I did not understand Russian. My parents had not allowed it, perhaps for this very reason. Perhaps they were trying to save me from this place. I had not seen my father nor heard word of or from him since that day before Malachai. He had never lost me since he had never had me to begin with. The brotherhood was more my family than my parents had ever been. What I did not understand, though, was Ivan's comment moments before.

Sighing, I stood and walked back to the bedroom. There, I hunted through the closet for something else to wear. I had found the wardrobe to be filled with clothes for both men and women of all sizes. Some clothes were far more revealing than others, but I finally found a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. The jeans were not something I would normally wear, adorned with plastic, glittering rhinestones on the back pockets and down the legs. There was a factory made tear in the left knee and one in the right thigh. The shirt I had found was layers of sheer green material and light and loose, but I had dug up a black tank top to go under it so that I was not so exposed. I ran my hands through my hair to comb out the knots, but the sleep had been so utterly complete, that it did not seem that I had moved much to tangle my hair.

Once complete, I left the room and headed down the stairs. Damien and Malachai were each on opposing couches. A third man stood about halfway between them, his arms crossed as he rocked back and forth, shifting his weight between his feet. He was tense, and the air in the room was tense, too. Ivan hung back behind Damien, and I had the distinct impression that he worked strictly for the younger, thinner Russian.

"How are you feeling, Alex?" Damien asked me as he looked up. Malachai, I noticed, did not even look at me. Tony was not kidding. He did not like female attorneys. Or, maybe it was just women. Or, maybe it had something to do with the fact that we were related, though I had not yet figured out exactly how.

"Not as physically exhausted," I answered. I wanted to be angry with him for the sleeping pill, for taking advantage of the fact that I was too emotionally withdrawn to protest, but I didn't. I might have slept, but that did not make me any less emotionally withdrawn. I had no will to fight him at that moment. At that moment, he was one of few allies. I could not afford to be reckless.

"You look considerably better. Now, eat something. By the time you finish, Erich should be here. Hopefully, he will have positive news for you."

I tried to protest. I tried to ask what he was talking about, but my words stuck in my throat. It did not help my case that my stomach chose that moment to growl. I had not eaten in nearly two days. Truth be told, I was starving. But, I also thought I would vomit what I ate. I was so nauseous. Ivan waved me to him, and I followed him into the kitchen. There, he took out fruit from the fridge and began to cut it up. I watched his practiced hand. He cut the fruit like surgeon, not a chef.

I took over for him, though I doubted I would eat any of it. "The sugar from the fruit will help you to feel better, Alex. You really should eat. Your blood sugar is low. Not dangerous, but it's headed that direction. Eating will help you to concentrate."

I only nodded, staring down at the apple between my fingers. I could recall the previous Friday, my first Friday back in New York. I had Matthew and Temperance that morning, Casey already at work. The babes had been hungry, and it was Tee who had brought me the apple from the fridge. I had cut the fruit up into tiny pieces and placed them on a plate, the three of us laying in a circle around the plate on the floor, picking at the apple pieces with our fingers and making silly sounds as we ate. Becoming a mother was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I could not let Jesse take that away.

"Stop playing with it, Alex, and eat it," Ivan said.

"Why is it that Malachai brought me on but hates to look at or talk to me if he doesn't have to?" I asked as I tried to chew on an apple slice. It tasted dry and stale in my mouth even though I knew it was juicy and fresh. I felt as though I were eating ash. Still, I swallowed, if for nothing than to appease my physician.

Ivan shrugged. "You will have to ask Malachai that."

"But, everyone else knows."

"No one can speak for a person but that person, Alex. You should know that best."

I bit my lip. "No, I speak for people who cannot speak for themselves."

"You speak for the law. There is a difference." He was right. He had me there.

"That doesn't stop me from trying."

"No, this is true. But, are you always successful?"

Hesitating, I shook my head.

_8:30 AM, 37.5 Hours Missing_

I called in sick to work. It was Friday, and I could not walk into the office knowing full well that by the time I walked out, Casey would have been gone for two days. Erich had arrived twenty minutes after eight, and I was sitting on a couch with Ivan. Malachai had left, though to where, I did not know. Damien was still there. He had left shortly after six when Malachai had gone, but he had returned at eight to wait for Erich.

Damien passed me a digital camera, and I leafed through the photographs. "I don't understand what I'm looking at," I told Erich. He had brought the camera in with him when he had arrived, and I was confused.

"Does anything look familiar to you, Alex? Anything at all? It's important." Erich was German from his accent, but his English was almost native, especially in his slang.

I shook my head, still flipping through the images. "I don't – wait. This." I turned the camera around, showing him the image of a messy bed. The sheets were black, as was the comforter. But, there was a pale yellow blanket on the edge of the bed. I could barely see it, but it looked familiar. "I think that's Temperance's blanket." My heart leaped into my throat. "Was she there?"

Staring over at him, I blinked furiously to try and push away the tears. One escaped, though, and I pushed it away violently. "My daughter, you found her?"

"Unfortunately, no. But we think she was there with Casey."

I bit my lip. I would have sworn that I would bite through the skin eventually. Then, maybe it was a good thing I had a physician nearby. "What?" I asked, continuing to flip through the photographs. There was a better one of the blanket which made me think it really was her blanket.

"Alex, we, uh." He hesitated, looking at Damien, then back to me. "I have her blanket in the car. I'll go get it for you. Let Damien look over the rest of the photos."

I drew my brow together. "No," I said, scanning them. "What did you find that you aren't telling me about?"

I stopped at one of the pictures outside of the bedroom, the blood draining from my face. "No," I yelped, "No, no, no, no, no." The camera fell into my lap, my hands flying to my face as I struggled to stop the scream in my throat.

Damien took the camera from my lap. "Wow," he breathed.

The carpet in the bedroom was beige. At least, it was originally beige if the picture said anything, but the stain that seemed to pour from beneath the bed was a dark red, almost black in some places. What it amounted to was a lot of blood, but I didn't know whose blood it was. I drew my knees to my chest, rocking as I screamed. I couldn't stop it any longer.

I screamed into my hands. I screamed and screamed, every intake of breath forced out in a loud, broken sound. Something warm and soft pressed up against me, and I grabbed for it, holding it to my chest. It was one of the blankets from the toy basket by the couch. I had used it to wrap Temperance up in and rock her to sleep. She totted it around with her in the house. Balling the blanket up against my cheek, I sobbed into the soft fabric. It smelled like both of them, Casey's vanilla perfume and her underlying human scent, Temperance's child scent, the smell of Play-doh and Cheerios and the berry scent of her kids shampoo and body wash.

It took me several minutes to stop trembling and screaming intermittently, wrapped in Damien's arms as I clung to my daughter's yellow blanket. "Hush, Alex," Damien whispered, stroking my hair. "Hush, child. Hush."

"I want to kill him. I want to slit his fucking throat," I growled into his chest.

He pulled me tighter. "I know, child, I know. We'll find them."

"That's a lot of blood," I whispered.

No one said anything. No one wanted to. To deny me would be a lie. To accept it meant that there was the possibility that Temperance or Casey were injured, or worse, one of them was dead. I did not know that I could face the possibility of either right then. And, in turn, I could feel my body shut down. I was becoming numb and cold and distant. I had to. It was the only way to survive. I knew that being cold meant survival. Being distant meant survival. I could survive. I had survived for many, many years.

"We need to find her."

"We will," Erich said, and I looked up at him. "He moved them from that location less than four hours ago. Assuming one or both is injured, that seriously limits how far he can take either of them. Even moving a dead body is too difficult. He's still in the city. My bet is the warehouse district. For people like him, it's a good place to go. No one can hear the screams."

I trembled. I did not like the way he said that. He spoke from experience. But, he was also right. If Temperance were injured or dead, Casey would be screaming. If Casey were injured, that would be a lot of explaining in a populated area. He needed somewhere without people, somewhere he could keep them hidden. An injured animal was hardest to keep. Forcing myself to calm down, I nodded. "There are many in New York. Which one?"

"We're narrowing it down as best as our resources allow. You'll be the first to know what I know, Alex. I promise."

I nodded. I held the blanket tight to my chest. "Find them, as quickly as possible. Yesterday, if possible." I could feel myself becoming hard inside, freezing over. I had to be hard to get out of this one. I could no longer be vulnerable. For the sake of my wife and child, I could not afford to be vulnerable.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: So, I admit, I have only a basic idea of what happened in Conviction. I watched it. And, by watched it, I mean I did other things while it was on in the background. It just didn't hold me. So, while I'll touch on the Conviction series, I suspect more will be off than on. But... I guess this is an SVU fic anyway, right? As always, thanks for the reads and the reviews. && thanks to those of you who checked out Intervention. **

_Five Days Missing_

By Monday morning, there was a department wide BOLO for Casey, Temperance, and the mysterious Caucasian brunette male that had accompanied her into her apartment building on Wednesday night. Over the weekend, SVU had worked without a break. I was still in contact only with Don, and we had talked a lot over the phone. Actually, I had cried a lot. I had screamed and yelled and ranted and feared a lot. He had listened. "I want my daughter and my fiancee back, Don," I said on the phone early Monday morning as I sat in my office, the door locked, my ADAs banned from entrance. I used the preparation I had for the grand jury as the excuse, but in reality, I needed to talk to the man I knew would be my friend. Damien, Tony, Ivan, Erich, and all of them were looking, too. They were hitting places the police weren't, splitting the city, though the police did not know it.

Saturday had been a scary day. Erich had returned with a lead that took us to a warehouse in Harlem. I had insisted on going, and Damien had given me a gun. The serial number had been scratched off, but I was not going to complain. I had climbed into the front seat, beside Ivan. Damien was behind us, talking to me, trying to keep me calm enough to realize that I should expect the worst. I thought he had meant the worst being the bodies of my family. I had not thought he meant the worst being that I did not even have that closure.

By the time we had gotten there, the warehouse was empty. It was obvious what room he had kept them in. Cheerios on the floor made me think that Temperance was still alive and well enough that she was eating. He was feeding her which was good. As for Casey, I gathered that she had to have been there, too. Erich moved the bed off the concrete floor, finding blood beneath the plain mattress that was sitting on the cold ground. There was no way they had been very warm there. Underneath the mattress was a hand print smeared through blood, but it was the size of Casey's hand. I had seen Jesse. His hands were bigger than hers. I had seen pictures of the man who had accompanied Casey to the apartment. He was taller than her. I was betting those were not his hand prints.

Frustrated and afraid – there was blood at both places I knew they had been – I turned over both crime scenes to Don. I only told him that the feds had decided that they would prefer NYPD to process the scene. He asked me what it was really about. I told him that they were on the trail but did not want to spook Jesse. That it looked like he was moving them. He had called me every few hours after that, checking on me. It was where I broke down on him. I did not tell him about the murderers I was spending time with, only about the emotional roller coaster I was riding.

"I know, Alex," Don said, his voice soft over the phone. "We're working here. You sure you've got nothing else?"

"I don't even know what you have, Don. I'm telling you what I get as I get it. As I get permission. He's moving her at least every other day from what they can tell, and I don't know. He's gotta run out of places to keep her eventually, right?" And, when he did, would he kill her? I didn't know. I did not want to think about it. The reality of the situation was much too frightening to face. "From what I gather, they're trying not to spook him into a corner. I'd rather have them alive and frightened than dead. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I think that would be far better."

Pausing, I sighed. "Am I right? Or am I not pushing hard enough?"

"I don't know, Alex. That is your call. I want to find them both. Temperance is like my granddaughter. But, I would rather find them two weeks from now alive than tomorrow dead." I hoped that it did not take two weeks to find them. I think I would completely break down before that. In fact, I did not know how much longer I could wait. It had been four and a half, almost five days since I had seen her or heard from her. It had been two days since I had last known they were alive. A lot could happen in forty eight hours. It looked like a lot had happened in the first three days. I could not even imagine the damage both physically and mentally for both of them. The sooner I got them back, the better for so many reasons.

I shook my head. "I don't know how much longer I can pretend to be normal, Don," I confessed. "No one's been talking about Jesse. I know why. I know the hope on all sides is to flush him out without making him think the heat is quite on him, but I can't act like she's just a coworker."

"How long have you two been seeing each other?" Don asked me.

"Three years, off and on. Harder with the Witness Protection thing," I said, deciding on the truth. Why not? Too much of our lives were secret. "I came out of WPP a little over a week ago. Oh, God." I stopped talking, having to force myself to breathe. "You think me reappearing permanently in Casey's life might have prompted this?"

"I don't know, Alex. Maybe. I'll run it by Huang. He's flying in from California today to work with us. It's possible that you being there all of the time ruined his fantasy, if that's what it is about. You also said that you and Casey told Tem's school about him talking to her. Maybe their higher alert spurred him to make his move. We'll figure out why after we find them, Alex."

Nodding, I ran my hands through my hair, tugging on it. The light pain reminded me that I could not dive too deeply into the misery of all of this. It was a dark place to go, and I did not think that I was prepared to go there, even with everything I had been willing to do, was still willing to do. "Find them for me, Don. I'll give you whatever I can. I just want them back home."

"Where are you staying through all of this?" he asked.

"With family."

"You have good support?"

"Yes," I said, grateful for what sounded like genuine concern. Then again, Don was always genuine. He was the most outstanding human being I had ever met. Even when he lied, he only did so for the right reasons. Normally, I might have said that an evil act for a good cause was still an evil act, but all things considered, I hardly had a high horse to ride around on. In fact, I think he had the moral high ground by far. After Saturday, I was pretty sure Daniel Orr had the moral high ground over me.

"Good. Alex, call if you need anything. Elliot's signaling that he might have something. I'll let you know." The line went dead, and I hung up, pulling a file in front of me. The best thing about remaining at work was the work. I could barely eat and I was not sleeping without medical intervention courtesy of Ivan. But, at the office, I could disappear into someone else's misery. Daniel Orr was still in prison. I was leaving him there until I got my results. His position was nothing like mine, but I was hoping it would be motivating nonetheless.

Digging into the file, I looked through the scanty evidence. I didn't even think that I could get an indictment on this one, but that was beside the point. The point was that I had a battle raging before me, and I would be damned if I turned tale and ran because it would taint my conviction record. The law was the law, but I worked for the victims. I think the empty warehouse that weekend had solidified that much for me. I could not bear to keep pretending. If it meant my career, so be it. I didn't want my job if it meant I could not work for truth, justice, and the victim. I sounded like a commercial in my head, but it was where my heart lay, and I could not deny that.

The grand jury was meant to convene at one that afternoon. I hoped that was enough time. I already had detectives lined up for interviewing. It was a quick turn around, but the indictment would be incredibly important considering that the detectives had arrested the guy on Sunday. I did not like their quick movement, but I understood it. He was a flight risk. I was familiar with those from my days at Special Victims. I would prefer to have my hand forced than see more pictures like those pinned to the inside of the folder labeled 'Grand Jury Exhibit' with little numbers written in beside the words. I could barely focus on the file, and I knew that even if the case weren't so disastrous to begin with, it was just as likely that my lack of focus would lose the indictment. Yet, Steele would not take it from me. That irritated me. He knew where my head was, and yet he would not step up.

In fact, I was battling him on another case. Sometimes, I won. Sometimes, I lost. But, as much as a politician as I was and was becoming courtesy of my new extended family, my conviction rating meant little to me if it was only that good because I turned away cases that were not a slam dunk. A knock on my door made me look up. The door cracked open. "Alex, can I talk to you?"

I had not talked to that man in years. I had only met him once, but with Casey's parents both deceased, I supposed he was the closest thing she had to parental guidance even though Robert Novak was only a couple of years older than his sister. "Rob, come in." I waved him in and closed the door behind him, but not before I caught two of the ADAs peaking out of their smaller offices to see the man who had come to visit me. I glared at Jessica and Christina, and they disappeared behind their paper thin walls. Had to love Manhattan. "Robert, what's wrong?"

"I know you and my sister had problems, but I heard you were back in New York. I had to come visit in light of the news report last night." He sounded unsure of how much he could say. Chewing my lip, I leaned forward and cleared my desk off as best I could. "I haven't heard from her in about month. I wish I had. I just – she kind of pulled away after Dad."

"I'm sorry, Robert. I am. I know about Casey's abduction. I'm the one that reported her missing." I twisted the ring off my ringer and held it out to him, dropping it into his outstretched hand. "We're engaged to be married. I know your church won't recognize it. Our state won't even recognize it, but maybe one day it will. We're doing everything we can to find Casey and Temperance. I want them back as much as you do."

I watched him struggle not to cry. Standing, I walked around my desk and sat on the desk in front of him. For several minutes, we sat in silence. Reaching out, I pushed my hand through his hair. "Robert, I'm so sorry. If I could have prevented this – I can't stop thinking about how if I had gotten home earlier, he wouldn't have gotten to her. Or, he would have taken me, too. Then, she wouldn't have to be alone. If I could will them back, believe me, they would have been back Wednesday."

Robert nodded, taking my hand in his from my hair. "Casey really is blessed to have found you, Alex. You have no idea how happy you made her."

"Make her, Robert. She will be back."

He frowned then nodded. "I know. Thank you for whatever it is you do that makes you, you."

I leaned back and grabbed a paper and pen, scribbling down my cell phone number. "Rob, call me any time, seriously. Send me your number, too, and I'll call you when they find them."

"You got it. Thank you, Alex. I'm praying for their safe return. And for you." People like Robert made me wish I could believe in God. Casey very nearly made me believe, but Robert made me want to believe. I still could not quite bring myself to do it, but I wanted to when the man was so sincere about his faith. I wanted a higher power like that to look up to. Instead, I had the Bratva. I supposed in a way that it was a higher power, but it was not quite the fulfilling sensation that Robert seemed to have from his relationship with his religion. Despite not practicing her spirituality, I even saw it in Casey. It was the same peaceful sensation that Robert seemed to have when he talked.

I tried to smile, though I did not feel sincere behind it. I wrapped my hand around his. "We're a family, Robert. I am thankful eternally for the support all of you have given Casey and Temperance. You have my support as well. We'll all get through this together. Pass my number around to your brothers as well if they want it."

"I will. Some of the girls will want to talk to you, too. Jen misses you."

Smiling, I nodded. "Yea. I miss her, too. Any of you, call me any time, okay? I'll always be able to talk to you all."

I walked Robert out of the office and back down to security, hugging him before he left. "Thanks for stopping by, Rob. I mean it. I needed to see you."

_Monday 8:45 PM_

I curled on the couch. My grand jury had come back with an indictment. I did not know what to do with myself. In fact, I was so astounded by the indictment that I had no idea how to proceed from there. It would take me a couple of days, and with this distraction, I had no idea how to take it from there. If Casey were safe at home with the baby, I wouldn't have any problem. But, with all of this, I was so very, very far behind legally. My family simply came first.

"What's going on through your head, Alex?" Tony asked, handing me a water bottle. I took a sip as I wondered the same thing I always wondered when I ate or curled up under a blanket. What was Casey feeling? Last I knew, Jesse was feeding Temperance, but was he feeding Casey? When was the last time she had anything to drink? What about where they were? Were they warm? That warehouse had been so cold, and there had been nothing there able to heat the place. It left it vulnerable. Had Jesse deprived Casey of a blanket again as he had in Denver? What of her clothes? He had stripped them from her once. Casey had told me it was because he thought she would kill herself with them. With Temperance, would that same consideration be a fear for him? I did not believe that Casey would kill herself either way, but my beliefs did not matter.

I rolled my head and looked at Tony. "The baby," I said.

"Huh?" The man looked perplexed.

"The baby," I said. "There's no way he can keep moving them and be moving a ton of baby supplies. He's either got a large van or truck to transport or he's buying new things every time."

"I don't know why that's important."

Shaking my head, I lay my head on his shoulder. "I don't know either. But, that's a lot of money and planning, Tony. He's not moving on a whim."

"He's planned it. For how long do you think?"

"Maybe two years. I don't know when he realized Temperance was his daughter biologically. Casey didn't know how long he had been communicating with Temperance. She's somewhat all over the place when it comes to her development. There's something not wired right." I shook my head. "She's epileptic on top of it. If she has a seizure, she'll need to go to the hospital. I guess, really, she wouldn't have to, but that would be better for her health. I just don't see if Jesse will see it that way."

Tony stroked my back. "I'm sure she's alright. If something bad happens to Temperance, I would imagine he'd get her help. You said she's his biological daughter? Aren't we going off the assumption that he did this to satisfy some fantasy about being a family? He would take her in if he really thought she was in danger. In his own, twisted way, he cares about her."

"At least he cares, even if it is a twisted way. He'll keep her fed and warm, right? At least there's that. I mean, I don't want Casey to be cold and hungry and hurt, but I think it's clear that he's hurt her. She's not a final part of the fantasy, and that scares me. He won't keep her around once he's done with her."

"We'll find her before that happens, Alex."

I chewed my lip. I hoped so. I really, really hoped so. It was just getting more and more difficult to keep my chin up when she was missing almost a week. I wanted my family back, and I had no idea how to do it.

_Thursday 11:00 AM_

Hands shook me from the groggy left overs of the medication Ivan had given me not even four hours prior. I had not been able to sleep the night before, and Ivan had finally given me an Ativan injection. It was a sedative, and it was enough to allow me to knock out. "Alex, wake up. Wake up."

"Huh? What?" I rolled over, away from the hands. Then, something in my brain clicked, and I sat up, screaming.

"Child, child, settle down. We have to go. Get dressed." Damien stood over me, holding out my jeans. Reaching up, I snatched the jeans from him, a little embarrassed that he was touching my clothes.

I stumbled out of bed and pulled my jeans on under the oversized tee shirt that I had fallen asleep in. I followed Damien down the stairs, yawning. "What's going on?" I asked. Erich and Tony and another man were standing in the middle of the living room. I could see guns in each of their pants, tucked between the pant and the shirt. Tony grabbed a jacket and pulled it over his shirt. Damien handed me a jacket as well. "What?"

"You've still got the gun," he said.

"Yea," I murmured. "It's by the bed."

"Go get it. We're closing in on him. You want to be there?"

My eyes wide, I nodded, fleeing up the stairs. Seconds later, I grabbed the firearm from the bedside table and shoved it in my pants. It fit snug and awkward, top heavy and threatening to fall out, but I didn't care. When I got out of the car, the gun would be in my hand, and if I saw even a hair on Jesse, I would shoot him.

We piled into the car, Tony checking over my weapon as we drove. "Okay, you're clear. Alex, I know you want this guy dead, but do me a favor, don't kill us in the process." I understood what he meant. He wasn't worried about me jumping the gun and pulling the trigger before I saw Jesse. He was voicing what I was sure Jesse was thinking. I could have turned on the brotherhood right then, and I had the weaponry to do so. Yet, even I knew I wouldn't. They had helped me in this, and even if they didn't consider it a favor, I considered it something akin to that. I would not turn on them until I was able to repay them. There was something to be said for earning camaraderie.

"I won't," I said, tucking the gun down the front of my pants. It still felt as uncomfortable as the gun had when Don had given one to me several years ago, but not nearly as awkward since I had shot David. Something about my fear of firearms had vanished when I had shot him. This time, I would not hesitate. I would empty the clip into him. Moral standing aside, I would empty the clip into him. If it meant my soul, so be it. I was reacting in anger and fear, and right then, I was okay with that. Maybe sometime down the road, I would regret it, but until then, I just did not care.

I leaned forward to Erich. He was driving down the road. "So, tell me about the place. What are we looking at?"

"Last we could track his movements, we're looking at a small house in the suburbs. I don't know whether or not Jesse has Casey and Temperance there, but he's been there four times in the past sixteen hours. That's usually a pretty good sign about where he's keeping his prisoners." Erich was frank. I liked that about him. It made it easier to listen to him when he talked about how he wanted to handle this. I had a feeling he was working backwards from his own kidnapping. I just hoped he wasn't kidnapping kids and I was trusting my kid to him. I supposed if he got me my family back, I could look the other way for some of the things he did.

I was becoming a bad person. I was justifying myself where I ought not be able to do it. That was scary. I bit the inside of my lip until I could taste blood, but I could deal with all of this later. I could deal with how horrible of a person I was later, when Casey and Temperance were safe.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: For your patience, thank you. I've been sick again of late - ew - and even got the 'you look like crap' lecture from my boss today at work before being chased home. **

_Thursday 11:45 AM_

I bent over the mattress, gun in my right hand as I pressed my fingers to the neck of the woman laying away from me. In the low light, it did not look like she was breathing, and my heart held in my throat as Damien, Erich, and Tony fanned out around us. I felt a heart leap against my fingers, and, carefully, I leaned lower, my lips brushing the skin behind her ear. "Casey, shh," I murmured, stroking her hair back from her face.

Her hair was wet, and when I withdrew my fingers to examine them in the light, it looked like water. I hoped that it was a positive sign. The woman below me jumped, a delayed reaction, and I rolled her over on her back. "Casey, it's Alex. Can you open your eyes?"

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered, her voice hoarse, the sounds catching around the harder edges of the words.

I pet her face, letting my thumb trace over the cut on her lips. She was in jeans and a sweatshirt that covered her body so other than the slice that opened her lip and a bruise below the left eye, I could see nothing that indicated injury. "I won't hurt you, Casey. You're safe now. Where's Jesse?"

"Alex?" she questioned, her hand moving up to touch my face as her eyes fluttered open. "Oh, God, Alex."

"Case, where's Jesse? And Temperance? We're here now. I brought people to protect you. But, we've got to find the baby." Her eyes rolled, and I watched tears well up in her eyes, but there was not enough water to allow them to pour over. It suddenly occurred to me that she was probably extremely dehydrated in the little room with no windows. The door had been locked from the outside. It was easy for us to unlock once we got there in the house, but Casey would not have been able to open it from the inside. "Casey, what happened?"

"He left. Took her with him." She shook her head, and I pulled her against me.

"When? Casey, how long ago?" Casey shook her head, her eyes fluttering almost of their own accord. I was shaking badly enough that I had to hand my gun to Tony who had come over to investigate.

"I'd say she's been without food since this started. It's what I would do. She's not going to remember time passage. Low blood sugar really fucks with your head and your memory. It could have been minutes before we got here or days. Damien says the house is clear upstairs. Lets get her back to Ivan so he can look at her." I didn't know whether or not it disturbed me more that Tony said he would do it or that he made it sound like a common technique when making a point. Or, maybe it disturbed me most that I was not offended by the idea, that it made sense to me.

I shook my head. "Casey and Tee are missing persons. The NYPD is looking for her. Call 9-1-1. Tell them you hear screams coming from this house. Don't leave your name or give your number even though they'll get it from the CAD." I stood up after kissing Casey's forehead. "Help is coming, okay, sweetie?"

Looking around, I found Damien and Erich. "Damien, leave the front door open when we leave, and we'll pray to God that the neighbors aren't nosy." I looked down at Casey. Obviously, they weren't nosy. Breathing deep, I closed my eyes. The room was tainted with the smell of blood and urine and sweat. By curiosity, fear, and anger, mostly anger, I moved Casey's sweatshirt up. It tugged and pulled where it clung to her skin, plastered by dried blood.

Casey moaned. "No, please. Please don't." From what little I had moved, I could already see a ring of bruises and what looked like haphazard stitches laced over the tail end of a wound. I wanted to scream, but I didn't. There was just something so messed up, so cruel about all of this, about him. Why her? Me, I could understand. My karma maybe deserved that, but not hers. Never Casey's. She was such a sweet woman.

"It's okay, Casey. I need you to hold on just a little while longer. The police are on their way, and the medics will take you to the hospital. I'll be right outside, waiting."

Damien held his hand against my shoulder. "Alex, the dispatcher is sending officers. Erich trashed the entrance, the police should have no problem going in."

I nodded. Reaching out, I clasped her hand, reluctant to let go of her now that I had her back, but Damien pulled me away. "Before we get arrested."

"I love you, Casey," I murmured then let Damien lead me out of the house and into the waiting car. Erich pulled around a half block and turned so that we could see the house. Two police cruisers pulled up less than a minute later, the officers stepping out of the car. I watched them knock on the opened door. They walked around the house, hands on their firearms.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, please go inside."

Once they had circled the perimeter, they did, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For several long seconds, there was nothing from the house. And then, one of the officers darted back outside, speaking into the microphone of his radio. I held my breath, clutching to Tony's hands as I waited for further response from emergency services.

The ambulance arrival took about ten minutes, and it took all of my will power and Tony holding onto me for me to not run out of the car and over to the stretcher.

We waited until the doors of the ambulance closed and the officers began setting up a perimeter. Then, we waited again until both officers had disappeared back inside the house. Erich started the car and carefully pulled away, deliberately not driving past the crime scene lest the police try to stop us.

I was silent and still on the ride back to the Queens house as I waited for the Special Victims Unit to be notified, for one of their detectives to go in and recognize Casey, for them to tell Don, for Don to tell me. Temperance was still out there, somewhere, with a monster of a man, and I had no idea what to do with myself in that regard.

"We still have to find Temperance."

"I know, child," Damien said, and I collapsed against him, my fingers wrapped around the fabric of his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me, rocking me against him. I felt safe, but I feared for Casey, for everything she had experienced over the week and a day she had been missing. It was a long time to spend at the hands of an abuser who had shown little regard for human life. At least Casey was safe now, though, I had to remind myself. He could not touch her once she was protected in the hospital.

There was also the matter of the strange, Caucasian man that no one had yet been able to identify. I did not know what NYPD was doing based on him, but technically, unless Casey could say that Jesse had been there, he was the only true suspect being investigated. I knew SVU would look for Jesse, but everyone else would be looking for the man from the tapes. As far as they would be concerned, Jesse might have been a person of interest, but he would be far from their primary focus despite the unlikelihood that the man was a stranger to either Casey or Jesse, especially Jesse. Who else? How else? The likelihood of him not being related at all to the four Marines who had already once been so cruel was, in terms of probability, very, very low. Casey would have to be one of the most unlucky women in history if that were the case.

It meant I wanted to scream at the officers. To shake them by their shoulders and tell them to look for the psychopath, but they had to figure that out on their own. All I could to was wait. And, I wrung my hands raw waiting for the call from Cragen, but shortly after three pm, it came. I wanted to go to the hospital before then, but Damien had a point when he told me that to show up without invitation was inviting them to look at me as a suspect. Since the brotherhood found her, I was not going to give them up over this. I owed them that much. I think Don knew, too, that I was not playing with federal agents when I disappeared from the apartment complex and told him I was working with the marshals. He wasn't stupid, but he was smart enough to know better than to ask. It made him a very intelligent man in my book.

"Don?" I questioned as I answered the phone.

"Alex, I want you to know they've found Casey and positively identified her, though she's too out of it to really talk much."

Even though I knew she had been found prior to the phone call, I burst into tears. "Oh, God. Thank you, Don. Is she gonna be okay? What about Temperance?" The second question, I had to force as Tony stood before me making rocking motions with his arms as though cradling an infant. "Can I come see them?"

"Why don't you come down to the university hospital? I'll answer your questions there."

"Don," I said, leaving his name hanging in the air between us.

"Just come down, Alex. I can send a cruiser to pick you up."

_Thursday 5:30 PM_

I stood in the waiting room, my arms wrapped around me as I stared at the doctor. Visitors had been barred from Casey's room pending investigation except for family. "I'm her wife, dammit," I barked. "I want to see her. That rat bastard kidnapped my kid as well, and I want to be there for my wife. She needs someone right now."

"I'm sorry, Miss Cabot, but the law does not see it that way. If Miss Novak had a husband, we could let him back, but-"

"Shut up," I snapped, twisting my hands through my hair. "You have no idea what she's been through. I've been there as much as I could, and if you could drag your head out of your ass for just one moment, you might realize that families come in all shapes."

"The answer is no. You can wait in the waiting room here until we can give friends an update."

"I'm not just her friend," I argued. I could feel the tears streaking down my face. I was trembling with both anger and fear, and I had no idea how to address this. I was in a verbal match for which I was too angry to use sensible words. I was too angry and too scared and too, I didn't even know, to speak normally.

Thank goodness for Don having stayed beside me. "Excuse me, Doctor, Alex Cabot is also a prosecutor with the District Attorney's Office. Miss Novak is a victim of a crime."

"She's much too close to the case," the doctor protested.

"With all due respect, I don't tell you how to treat her as a patient. It's really not your call to make." Don was firm on his ground, and the doctor finally shrugged. If I had been in my right mind, I would have made that point.

"Down the hall, third room on the right. We're preparing a room transfer for her to the ICU."

Don took me back to the room, my hand clasped in his. "You'll be alright, Alex. You'll be just fine." I gave his hand a tight squeeze, and then he let me go, holding open the door that closed Casey's ER room off from the others.

With blinking, barely focused eyes, Casey rolled over and looked at me. An oxygen tube ran to her nostrils. She had an IV taped to her arm, another taped to her hand. I had seen her with tubes and wires before, but this hurt more. This, I should have been able to prevent. She held up her hand, fingers curled up as she watched me. Slowly, I reached out and took her hand in mine. "Oh, Casey, my beautiful Casey."

"Tem-perance?" Casey whispered, her lips smacking together in that chapped way. I hoped Tony was not right. I hoped that she had not been starved. It was bad enough that they had to cut away the crude, infected stitching on her abdomen, that she had been cut open.

I pressed her fingers to my lips, shaking my head, tears building up in my eyes. "He took her somewhere. They're trying to find them both to arrest him and bring her back to us, but they don't have any leads. Do you know anything?"

Casey shook her head, pulling my hand to her face. I gently touched her, the bruise under her cheek didn't look so bad with the tubes. The tubes were what made her look terrible. "Try and rest up, Casey. I'll stay as long as the doctors will let me."

She did not close her eyes, though. I didn't expect her to. She did, however, fight back the tears I could see forming. I wanted to tell her that it was okay to cry and scream, but I couldn't tell her that because it wasn't okay to do that. Right now, we had to stay as put together as possible to get Temperance back. Even Damien and Tony would rely on Casey's recollections of anything Jesse or the other man may have said to her before they took off. I didn't even know if the other man was still there. Or, had Jesse ditched him? Had he helped partake in Casey's physical torment? Would he be gentle with my daughter?

The nurse had said that there was no evidence of sexual trauma which, silly as it sounded, was an utter relief. Other than the splatter of bruises across her body and the wound to her abdomen, they had left her alone. I honestly did not think that Casey could handle a sexual assault again. It was a small wonder that she was still prosecuting sex crimes. I knew she had nightmares about the cases. And, not just the cases, I suspected, though in the week I had been back in New York before she was taken, she did not talk much to me about her dreams.

I held Casey's hand in silence until the staff came in, telling me they were going to move her to the ICU. I nodded. "I'm going with her, none of this waiting room nonsense."

The technician actually moving her shrugged. "Works for me." He led me through the hospital to patient elevators where I rode up, Casey's hand still attached to mine. Even as they were preparing her for transport, she didn't let me go. She made the nurses work around her, and I danced and twirled as best I could while they unhooked everything. I didn't mind. I was not precisely prepared to let her go, either.

In the ICU, her room was quiet except the sounds of her heart monitor and the filling of the blood pressure cuff every ten minutes. She looked exhausted, but she didn't sleep, and neither could I. Instead, she looked at me, her eyes wide, still kind of blank. It was the blank look I saw on victims who had seen too much, done too much. I wondered what she was seeing inside of her head, but I didn't dare ask. It wasn't that I didn't want to be there to let her talk through it. It was more that I just instinctively knew she would not be able to handle it. I was watching her brain work, and it wasn't processing what had happened. It was burying it. She was making the memories dim, even if she weren't aware of it. The look she gave me when I did meet her eyes was the look of someone trying to lock things in boxes, put them in attics because they were just too painful. I couldn't even begin to imagine.

She had blocked out what had happened the first time Jesse had taken her, back in Denver, back when I wished I had run out of the hotel after her. I consistently fell short of my promises to protect her. I told her I would kill David. I fell short. I told her I would keep her safe during the trial. I fell short. And, now, once more, I did not live up to my end of the bargain. Trust me, I had said, I will protect you. And, yet, what good was I that she got hurt over and over?

I broke first, the tears spilling over my cheeks. "I'm sorry, Casey. I'm so, so sorry."

She held my hand only tighter. "Here," she murmured, tugging on my hand. Her voice sounded dry and raspy, and I cringed at the thought that one human being could do something so vile to another. It made me hope and pray that Jesse's paternity to our child meant something to him because if he could hurt Casey so much, what would he do to a helpless child? Was Temperance okay? Was she scared? Was she hurt?

Casey tugged harder at my hand. Obviously, I was not responding in the manner which she wanted me to. "Al-Lex," she panted, her head rolling away from me, then back to me. She licked her lips, and I reached over and grabbed the cup of ice chips the nurse had left for me to give her. At least the people in the ICU weren't afraid of politics. Casey's visitors were still limited to family and investigators, but it was the middle of the night. No one would be talking to Casey until sometime the following day, and even then, that might have been iffy.

"Here, honey, want an ice chip?" I said, holding ice between my fingers. Slowly, she nodded, and I rubbed the ice over her lips before she opened her mouth, and I dropped the chip in. I knew she was bad shape, bad enough that they weren't letting her eat or drink until she could speak more normally. I didn't know enough about medicine to really understand, but I got the gist of it. She could have been worse, but he'd worked her over pretty bad. I wondered if Temperance had seen.

Brushing her hair from her face, I gave her my best smile. "I love you so much, Casey. You know that, right?"

She blinked, her hands on my cheeks as she stared at me for several long seconds. "Hold me," she finally whispered. Careful, I draped an arm over her, curled against her as best I could from the chair, and she wriggled herself over to the side of the bed. I could feel her nails rake against my neck as she clutched for my shirt, the fabric already moist as she cried. Gradually, I moved so that I was laid out beside her, and I held her while she cried.

I couldn't bring myself to say that it would be okay because it wouldn't be. Whatever had happened in those places during those days, Casey would have to shoulder for the rest of her life. I wanted to tell her that it would get easier, but that wasn't true, either. If she were lucky, she would get stronger. She would not break under the weight. I planned to be there to support her, and I knew the troops would be there, too. None of the detectives would let her give up. But, in the end, the burden did not become lighter or easier to bear. It would be the same memories, the same emotions, the same fears. The survivor only became stronger.

But, then, that was it, wasn't it? We only acquired strength when we were forced to overcome, to shoulder burdens, to survive.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Just when I think I'm getting better... Can the Spring not come with icky viruses? Because, I would appreciate that. :) In all seriousness, though, thanks for the continued reads and reviews. My head is clogged with viral ick, so I hope I am still living up to expectations (minus the posting daily business). **

It was five days before I was allowed to take Casey home with me. Cragen made sure the apartment was released as a crime scene before then, and I went in and cleaned everything that I could. There was no sign of Jesse or Temperance, and neither those with law enforcement or those against it could find a lead. He didn't try to contact us or put a ransom on Temperance, and it was Damien who finally made me face the truth. He had absconded with her with no intent to return her to us. He had hidden in New York for two and a half years without being found or noticed, even by the people he was watching. If he left New York, even with Temperance, we might never find him. If he was still in the city, it might be years before we stumbled upon him again.

My heart was breaking, but it was nothing like Casey's heart. She barely ate, barely spoke to anyone, including me. We both wound up spending more time at work from it, and as the days turned to weeks, I grew more cautious in my prosecution. Casey grew more reckless. I tried to tell her to lay off, to take a step back, that she was going to get herself disbarred, but she didn't care. I had stretched the evidence to its maximum and turned in favors, but I had never lied to a judge to get a warrant. Casey crossed that line, and it caused a demanding level of tension between us in the professional realm. That might have been okay if there weren't so much tension in our personal lives, either.

She refused to be touched; she ate only when her blood sugar dropped so low I threatened to take her to the hospital; and I felt like I was turning into some hope crushing demon by telling her she needed to pull herself together. I wanted her to take the time she needed, but she was spiraling dangerously out of control, and that was what scared me. I was actually surprised that the DA let her back so quickly after her experience, but once she was medically cleared, he gave her back her docket. Not that I didn't think she could handle it, but I didn't think she was helping herself any by continuing a docket with victims with stories similar to hers.

Casey refused to talk about what had happened in the week and a day she had been missing. She told Major Case detectives that Jesse had indeed been there and that the other man, she thought his name was Chris, came and went intermittently. Other than that, she said she didn't remember much. Medicine was on her side in that one because amnesia would not have been uncommon between the injuries, the low blood sugar, and the trauma. I knew better, though. I saw her eyes gloss over when something came on the television which she left running almost constantly, even if she were in a different room. I had made the mistake once of turning it off. In the silence, she had panicked, and I knew she remembered more than she talked about. Maybe she didn't recall everything, but they had done things to her that she remembered.

My work life suffered, too. I was more careful about how I prosecuted. I had to be more sure and steady about things before I took them to heart, though I took just about any case that the other ADAs in the unit refused. I didn't care if I could win it or not. The point was to act as a show of force, to advertise that people couldn't do things and get away with them. But, I was a hypocrite.

I dropped charges against Daniel Orr with prejudice so that I had the opportunity to prosecute him for those same if I changed my mind down the road. Not surprisingly, he became one of the biggest 'find Temperance' advocates in the brotherhood. Damien was a great help, too. Though, after nine weeks, while I wasn't ready to give up hope, I knew the likelihood of finding her was slim to none.

"Casey, honey, are you home?" I asked, pushing open the door to our horribly quiet apartment. I hadn't been there long with Temperance, but even when she was asleep or at daycare, there was a certain atmosphere to the apartment that just didn't exist without her. It made my stomach churn just by being in the apartment, but I was not about to suggest that we move. Casey would lose control if I so much as hinted at it. That, and I really wasn't ready to admit it myself. I had finally taken all of her toys from the living room and assigned them an area in her closet. That had led to a huge blow up between Casey and I that never really was resolved.

It wasn't like I wanted to admit that maybe we start to consider moving forward. I wanted to stay right where I was and demand my child's return. But, it was impractical. Over two months had passed. Unless there was some twist of fate, Temperance wasn't coming back to us. She just wasn't. Jesse had been out of sight since Denver, and even when he hadn't been, only Temperance had seen him. If he did not want to be found, he wouldn't be. If I ever did find him, though, his death would be slow and painful. Privately, I hoped that no matter how he died, he would find his end ironically. Preferably all alone, in the dark, slowly and painfully. But, I didn't even suggest that to Damien who, while he would have approved, did not need to know that kind of darkness raged in my heart.

"In the bedroom," Casey called back. I had taken to getting home later and later. It was easier. If I didn't stay at the office to work, I went to Tony's apartment in Midtown West. My being gone did not help our relationship, but my being there helped even less. I didn't want to argue with her, but it seemed to be the inevitable outcome of the both of us in the house. Anywhere, actually. We fought at work, mostly in my office. My office seemed good for fights. I fought with everyone.

I fought with Jessica most of all the ADAs in the unit, but Christina was a close second. I fought even more with Jim, though our arguments were less about homicide and more about the brotherhood. And, when Casey was around, we fought behind my closed office door over both work and home. "I brought home a pizza, Casey. Please eat."

"I'm not hungry, but thank you." I pushed open the bedroom door after leaving the pizza on the table. In truth, I wasn't hungry, either. Casey was curled on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest a familiar photo album in her hands. Carefully, I crawled on the bed, laying beside her. "I miss her, Alex," Casey mewled, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, my head on her hip. She didn't flinch for once, and I took that as a good sign. I knew a lot of the tension between us, her fear of being touched, stemmed from the abuse she had undergone setting her back on her path to healing by several years. The rest of it was because Temperance was still gone. It was the kind of thing that would tear families apart, and I could feel the rip in ours.

Kissing her hip lightly, I touched over the glossy photos of a time in Casey's life I had missed, a time in my daughter's life. Temperance looked to be about thirteen or fourteen months, clearly still uneasy on her feet. Casey was squatted down maybe five feet from the toddler, her arms outstretched. "I wish I could have been there, Casey. Tell me about it." I tapped the photograph I was talking about and looked up to my wife hoping she would open up to me.

"Fin took the photo," Casey murmured. "It was the first time I took Tem into the squad room. I wouldn't even take her into the DA's office. She bee lined it for Fin as soon as I took her out of the stroller, fell over twice. She was so funny. It was in the middle of a pretty difficult case. Everyone had been up fro a while, and it seemed like a good thing to have little feet tottering around. She was just what the doctor ordered. She'd do anything to get someone to laugh at her."

I smiled. "Sounds like Temperance." Sitting up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her, and for the first time in two months, she leaned back into me, her hands over my arms. She cried against me, her body trembling in my arms as I held her against me. "I've got you, Casey. It's okay to cry."

She twisted in my arms, head in my chest, and she screamed wordlessly several times until she was a shaking mess. "I want my daughter back," she sobbed. "I want my life back. We were doing so well. Why? Why the fuck does he get to come in and take it all away?"

"I don't know, sweetie. I wish I did." I kissed her head, holding her tight to me. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know. In the mean time, I'm here for you to lean on."

"Who are you supposed to lean on, Alex?" Casey asked, pulling away from me, picking the album up in her lap, touching the photographs. I shrugged. It didn't matter. I would figure that out later, when I needed to break down. Until then, I was happy to be the rock. I'd been a rock most of my life.

"This one's my favorite," Casey said, holding a picture up for me. I recognized it. It was the one Casey had taken Wednesday night, Temperance in my lap, head tipped back in a loud giggle while I made eating sounds around her hand. In the one moment Casey had caught the picture, it looked like she was laughing while gesturing for me to be silent. My eyes were closed. I looked serene because for the first time in years, I felt at peace. "She has been yours from the start, Alex, before she was even mine."

I frowned. "What do you mean, sweetheart?" I asked, stroking back her hair. I pulled her into my lap and hugged her against me. Now that she was letting me touch her without fighting me or yelling at me, I was going to take it as much as I could. I might have been a wall of stone and ice, but even I was a social creature. I needed touch. And, if I needed it, I knew Casey needed it, too.

"You blanket accepted her even as I struggled. She was yours, even from the start, Alex."

I pressed my face into her neck. "She's mine because you're an amazing woman and great mother and gave me the opportunity to be the same. And, Casey?"

"Hm?" she queried when I didn't say anything further.

"She is yours and mine, okay? Not was. Never was."

Casey's hand caressed my face. "Always our baby, Alex." She twisted in my arms and kissed my lips. There lacked a certain passion. She was just so sad. So was I. It seemed that where we were then, in that heart beat of time, stuck in a bog so deep and slick with mud, there was no getting out. No getting free. I pulled her to me, and she came, rising to her hands and knees in front of me as her sadness turned to such a pure need I was almost overwhelmed by it. Casey was emotionally responsive, there had never been any doubt. She, more than anyone that I knew, could give and take and make others feel what she felt – or what she wanted them to feel. It was part of her charm most of the time, but here, it was like a stinging whip.

If I thought anything more than what was being done would help, I would do it. An Amber Alert had been issued for Temperance, the NYPD was handling what media they thought would help which was to say that they were trying to keep everything as much outside of the media as possible, fearful that it would cause Jesse to ditch Temperance and to him, that would mean killing her. My guess was that he had been planning to return for Casey who had been ill and injured when the brotherhood had located her. We had spoiled that plan, and now all he had was the child. I hoped that she was his biological child would be enough for him to not hurt her. As for the brotherhood, they were giving it their best. It put a lot of strain between Damien and Malachai, but I had Tony's assurance that it was only fate that they would bicker so heartily over something, anything. That it happened to be the fate of my child did not, apparently, change the fact that or how they argued. Damien wanted to find her. Malachai wanted to call her a casualty. That had set me off, labeling a child as a casualty. His response had made me shut up, though. He listed off the child cases I had worked where the child, no matter the outcome of the case, had somehow lost. I knew what each name meant because each name haunted me, even several years later.

I rocked back with Casey still pulled against me, laying with her on the bed. She buried her head against me. I hummed a love song I had picked up somewhere. I had always been a romantic at heart, it just rarely had the opportunity to show through. After a while, I realized she wasn't crying any longer, she was whimpering in her sleep. I could only imagine what she was seeing in the back of her head as she dreamed, what she might be reliving. Her hands tightened around me, and she jerked once, sharply before her muscles stiffened. "Hush, Casey. I've got you now. I've got you," I murmured, rubbing her back in small circles. She stilled somewhat, relaxing just a hair, but never as much as I had seen her those first few days, those days when we were a whole family, before Jesse came back and ripped it apart.

Only then, knowing that Casey was sleeping, though with nightmares, safe in my arms, did I cry. I cried for everything I had not been able to prevent happening to her, everything I felt responsible for happening, everything that he had done, for our daughter, for every minute she was away and we could not see her and hold her. I had never seen myself becoming much for a mother. I was a politician at heart, and that was what I had wanted. But, Casey had changed that when she came into my life. She had made me realize how much I wanted a family. And, Temperance made me realize how there was no other role possible for me than to be her mother, her Momma.

When I woke up, my pillow was still damp, as was Casey's hair. I looked at the clock on the nightstand, curious as to what woke me. From the lack of light outside, I knew it was still dark outside, and though both Casey and I had to go into the office that day, two o'clock was still much too early to go into the office. I groaned. Something had to have woken me.

Another buzz in my pants pocket reminded me, and I quickly pulled one of my cell phones from my pocket. I usually did not keep either on vibrate. One was my link to the Bratva, to Tony, and he did not call unless it were an emergency. The other was my link to work, and no one called on that unless someone had been murdered. There was my personal cell phone, but that only rang if Casey, Jake, Maddie, or Tee's school were calling. Other than that, no one else had that number.

"Cabot," I mumbled, trying to be quiet. In the dark, I couldn't tell if it were my work phone or not.

"Alex?" a voice asked. It took me a moment to place it.

"Jim," I said, sitting up straight. I slid from around Casey and out into the living room. I had been assuming I was on my work cell, but with Jim, it was difficult to tell. In the two months I had been with the brotherhood, apparently, more of them trusted me as much as mobsters could trust, anyway. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I had a gun and the opportunity to shoot Erich and Damien and hadn't shot either of them. I hadn't even considered it, truth be told. They could kill a hundred people. They had found Casey. That was my biggest concern. "What happened?"

"You're gonna wanna come in for this one?"

"Stop being cryptic. Why?"

"Alex, it's a Manhattan judge. Jess just called me in on it."

"Just called you in, my ass," I grumbled. I might not have been feeling like myself. I may have been leaping at everything handed to me, flinching from duties to which I was normally relentless, and even spending time with people I would normally never associate with, but I wasn't blind. Or stupid. "Where are you?"

He gave me the judge's address. I hated going out on scene. I always had, even when I was working with Special Victims. It was my least favorite part about homicide, too. One of us always had to go out on cases where it more than really looked like murder to ensure evidence was collected to standard. It was a stupid rule. The cops knew what they were doing better than I did. But, I guess if it made the brass happy, then they got what they wanted. No one asked me my opinion. Quickly, I scrawled a note to Casey in case she woke before I returned explaining that I hod gone on scene per request and to call me if she needed anything.

I felt bad about leaving Casey so soon after she had opened up to me and finally let me hold her again. I just wanted to curl back up around her and hold her. She was still asleep, and I could tell it wasn't sound as I leaned down and kissed her, my lips barely grazing her temples. Blinking, she looked up at me. "Al?" she whispered.

"I gotta go to work, honey. Go back to sleep, I love you." She nodded with exhausted eyes that were so clouded over, I don't even think she knew she had woken up. Her head drooped to the side, and I touched her cheek. "I love you so much."

I was reluctant to leave, but I managed to pry myself away after a few lingering seconds, change into clean clothes and pull my hair into a pony tail. On my way out, I told Adam, the newest graveshift guard, that I would be headed out. Casey and I checked in with them constantly at their insistence. They were sweet people, really, and some of the kindest police officers I had ever met. Management at the apartment complex picked them out very specifically because most cops I knew erred on the side of asshole. Adam said he would keep an ear out for Casey or anything suspicious. I hated that everything felt so fragile, but I was equal parts grateful that there were so many people willing to help out. It was hard to have faith in humanity, but they made it a little easier.

It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. There was a squad car out front when I walked out, and the officer rolled down his window when he saw me approaching. "ADA Cabot?"

"Yea," I said, nodding. I crouched down to the window and peered in the squad car.

"Get in. I'm supposed to take you to the shooting."

"Jesus, the guy was shot?" I said, whistling low between my teeth. Shootings, I had learned, were both personal and impersonal. It was just as easy to shoot a stranger as it was a friend. There was no close contact except in special circumstances, but if a person planned on the crime, then it was distant. At any rate, the kind of physical force and proximity necessary was nothing like with a knife. Strangulation was about as personal a thing I could imagine, though I was sure the psychologists would tell me differently, come up with even more dark and gruesome manners by which to kill another person.

"Yea. Fucking sucks," the officer grumbled. "Can't catch a goddam break in this city, no matter who you are." I gave him a quizzical look. I knew what it meant, but in the past weeks, I had learned to be cautious. "Who the fuck shoots a judge, I mean, come on."

My brows raised a little. "Good point. Did you know him?"

"Not personally, no. But, he was the judge for a lot of the domestics I was called to testify in. He was real sweet to the wives who were scared, walked them through everything. Good guy. His wife died last year from cancer. Such a fucking shame."

I just nodded, opening the car door and sliding in, shutting the door behind me. The officer pulled onto the street and drove me, in silence, to the area of the island where the late judge had resided, where he had, presumably, been shot. Missing ADA, kidnapped daughter of ADAs, murdered ADA, judge assaulted, raped police officer, police officer shot and killed in the line of duty, murdered judge – we weren't immune to the violence and the horror because of our jobs. We just saw more of it.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Alright, finally there's been enough "mundane" offenses in my world that I felt like I could sit down a write this out. Thanks for being patient. I time jumped in this one a little more than I usually do in this story, but it seemed kind of drab to drag it out. Anyway, here ya go. I'm going to make it my goal to update each story at least once a week. I got a psuedo promotion at work because of a case, so the promotion lasts as long as the case does. It means more work and possibly less updates.**

_Damaged people are dangerous. Damaged people know they can survive. _

I stared at the judge, my mind utterly blank. It wasn't from lack of trying, mind, but there was just this blockage. And, while I stared at the judge, Attorney Tracy Miklos stared at me, his client smirking beside him.

"Miss Cabot?" the judge asked, staring over her glasses at me.

My mouth worked like a fish gasping for air in an overly rich environment. "I- I-" I stammered, shaking my head. "Your honor, can we recess for ten minutes?"

"What are you going to do in ten minutes that you cannot do now?"

I shook my head. "Approach?" I asked. She nodded, and Miklos and I walked up to the bench, my cell phone twisting in my fingers. I handed the judge my cell, and, dutifully, she read over the text message on the screen. I was grateful she did not read the message aloud nor ask what it meant.

"I see," she said, pushing her glasses up higher on her nose with her index finger. I bit my lip. "Recess granted. I will see you both back here in ten minutes. The defendant will remain in custody until then. We'll review bond then."

"Thank you, your honor," I mumbled, fleeing the court room, already dialing the phone number in the text.

It had been nearly nine months since the judge was shot. It turned out that he was bought and kept by the brotherhood on top of everything, so I was harping pressure from two sides to put the guy who did it behind bars. No, that was not accurate. The police and the DA's office and the court wanted me to put him behind bars. The brotherhood wanted me to tell them who it was so that they could slay the sick bitch. I had opted for the law I was more familiar with, though increasingly less comfortable with now that I was practically family. As such, Miklos was his appointed counsel until he could hire his own. It was nothing against Miklos, but I hoped the defendant would not

In the nine months that had passed, neither Jesse nor my daughter had turned up on anyone's radar. My suspicion was that if she were still alive, she would scarce remember Casey or myself. It was sad, really. He had ripped her from us at an age where she was young enough to forget easily. I still thought about her every day, every moment of free time between arguments before the court, as I was working on a case at home, as I watched Casey sleeping beside me, medication still the only thing capable of knocking her out.

The DA had desperately tried to force Casey to take vacation time. Stubborn as she was, she refused. It had gotten her suspended for three years on a Brady violation. I had not said those four words she had challenged me to say, the ones braggarts say when they find they are, indeed, right. I was not happy to be right. I was grieved to find that her only outlet since Temperance's kidnapping was gone. Nothing I said made things better, and I knew better than to tell her it had almost been a year, that our daughter had turned four without either of us to sing her happy birthday.

Casey had nightmares every night she drank herself to sleep, and now that she had no job she drank more often than not. Even Olivia and Fin could not shake her. She had withdrawn completely from them. And, I had never once spoken with them except to talk to Don about Temperance being missing. I couldn't remember if Don ever told them that I was back in New York. I knew Casey hadn't.

It was actually a sad state of affairs. I didn't understand her fascination with alcohol. She seemed to remember more when she was drunk. I couldn't hold her, I couldn't console her. There was nothing I could do except watch her freak out until she passed out. Or, she would get quiet and stare off into space, and that was when I knew it was very dangerous to be in her head.

"This is Alex," I said to the 'hello' on the other end.

"Al, it's Erich."

I bit my lip and sat down. He was kind of the go to hit man that Damien preferred. Malachai liked him, too, though he wouldn't admit to it. "What's up?"

"Good news or bad news?"

"What's going to get me through the arraignment I'm in before I vomit?"

"Neither." He sounded a little disheartened about that one.

"Then, fuck it."

For a few seconds, he was silent, and I grew impatient. "Erich, spit it out, what's wrong."

"Casey's in the hospital."

I had introduced Casey to Erich, Tony, and Damien slowly but surely. She did not know what they did, but she knew they were friends of my family and had been for a while. Casey thought that Damien and I had to be related somehow. Apparently, we were too damn alike for us not to be. I knew what she meant, but I had merely told her that which I had grown up believing, that he was my uncle and he was my father's business partner. My father had finally gotten over selling me out. It wasn't as though there were much he had to get over. It turned out the tears when I first saw him again were probably just an act. I didn't know for sure, but the few times I had seen him in that haunted house since that episode, he did not seem nearly as sorry as he had been when we were first reunited.

"What happened?"

"From what I could get from the doctor, it looks like she took too many of her sleeping pills."

I swallowed, wanting to vomit. "Intentionally?"

"They don't know yet. They're still running blood tests, and she's not readily verbally responsive."

"What's the good news?" I asked thinking that had to be the worst of it.

It turned out the good news was actually worse. "Authorities think they found a girl matching the missing persons description of your daughter. It was called in by a nurse at two fifteen this morning New York time."

My heart stopped and I actually fell off the bench. "Where?" I whispered.

"St. Paul, Minnesota," Erich answered. "What I gather, a four year old multiracial female was brought into the hospital this morning by a man identifying himself as her father. What happened, I don't know. I'm still working on gathering intel, but I thought you deserved to know. You're her mom, after all."

Hand to my chest, I struggled to breathe. "Oh, God," I whimpered, shaking so badly on the floor that I thought I would pass out.

"I haven't been able to confirm anything, Alex, so don't start too soon. But, from what I was able to intercept, the man's description sounds like Jesse."

"What about him?" I asked. "Did they take him into custody?"

"My best guess is that they did, but I don't know. You'll probably be getting a call from the feds in a few hours if not by tomorrow morning."

"I can't wait until morning."

"Get through your arraignment, Alex, and call in the rest of the damn day. Your fucking wife's in the hospital. I think your boss will understand."

I was nodding, but he couldn't see me. I didn't care, though. I just hung up the phone and numbly walked back into the court room, gesturing to the court clerk who waved me up to her little desk near the bench. "Is Judge Gains available to finish this arraignment, Lydia? Tell her with all due respect, but my fiance's in the hospital, and I'd like to be there."

"Understandable," Lydia murmured, standing and fleeing to the back of the court house where the judges' chambers were among a plethora of offices.

Sliding back to the prosecution's table, I sat down beside one of my coworkers, a man who prosecuted on the general docket. I did not know him all that well, and I just gave him a blank look. "You look exhausted," he told me.

I nodded.

"Go home."

"I will. After this arraignment. I want remand."

"He's suspected of killing a judge, right?" he asked me. I nodded. "Give me the file. Go home. You look like you're about to be sick."

"Thanks," I mumbled. Normally, I would not have done it, but in this instance, I doubted that I could argue anything let alone successfully. "Tell the judge I'm sorry."

I dashed out of the court room, barely keeping myself together to get to the bathroom and throw up. On one hand, Casey was hospitalized, and I had no idea if she were trying to kill herself or not. I knew she had been upset, but I could not think of her as suicidal. It just wasn't like her. She was Catholic, for one. For the other, she was the one who demanded we keep hoping. Maybe hope was the great evil. She had hoped so much, she burned herself out. On the other, it was possible that they had found our little girl. It was very possible which made me want to cry.

I clung my phone tight to my chest in the elevator, waiting for the agents to call me. Court orders said that Temperance was as much in my custody as Casey's. Even though I could not adopt Tee as my child by law, I was still the child's guardian under the law. And, so was Casey. As much as they could call her, they could call me, and I knew they would. We had worked with the agents often enough in the past nine months that they were fully aware of our relationship. I did not doubt that I would get the phone call, particularly since Casey was unable to answer her phone.

I caught a cab to the hospital, barely paying attention, my purse clutched against my stomach. The driver tried and failed to strike up a conversation, and I didn't mind. I don't know how much money I handed him, but it was apparently enough to cover my fare.

In the waiting room, I met Erich, his knuckle in his mouth. "Alex," he said when he saw me. "Holy Hell. You look like you've been run over by a steam roller."

"I feel like it. Casey?"

"3B. She's stable and in and out of consciousness. They're going to monitor her in the ICU until her levels are low enough. They weren't quite lethal."

"Jesus," I whispered, pulling my license from my wallet and handing it to the nurse so that I could check in. He wrote down my name and wrote me out a visitor's pass. Tucking my ID away, I followed Erich back to Casey's room, my beautiful Casey laying in the center of the hospital bed, blanket tucked around her, monitors beeping, and a doctor leaning over her, stethoscope pressed to her chest as he listened.

I knocked gently on the door. "Hey, doc," I muttered.

"You must be Alex," the doctor said as he stood, looping his stethoscope around his neck. I nodded. "Casey's doing alright so far. What can you tell me?"

"If this was intentional," I said, stroking Casey's hair and cheeks, "I can't tell you that I saw anything indicative. She didn't talk about wanting to give up or die. Our daughter was kidnapped nine months ago, and she was always the one who said we had to keep searching and not give up. She was suspended from work about a week ago, and she was drinking before that, but she's been drinking more since. Is it possible that the combination of sleeping pills and liquor-?"

The doctor nodded as I trailed off. "Her blood alcohol is point three, Alex. It's more than possible, it's likely."

I sucked on my lip, picking up my wife's pale hand, stroking her long fingers. It was something I had not been able to do in a long time, just touch her without her freaking out on me. She had her moments when she wanted to cuddle, but for the most part, even in her sleep she pulled away. In her half conscious state, her finger coiled around mine, and she moaned. "Alex?" she mumbled, her words slurred.

God, I hated the sound of my name on drunk lips. I squeezed Casey's hand even though the rest of me shook with tears. "It's me, beautiful," I said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so tired."

"I know, baby. Rest now. It's okay." She nodded, her head flopping to the side. Almost immediately, her breathing deepened in the sound of sleep. "I love you, Case." I looked around the room to find it empty, and I sat on the bed beside Casey, tracing her face with my fingers.

"They might have found her, baby," I whispered even though she could not hear me. They may have found her in Minnesota, and they're looking into it right now to confirm. I'll know soon. You gotta get better so we can go pick her up." I was crying again. I hadn't cried in months, but I could not stand where I was at that moment.

"Don't cry," Casey whimpered, looking at me with unfocused eyes. Her words were slurred, and I had to strain to understand them.

"Jesus Christ, Casey. Promise me, promise to God you'll let me get you help. I thought I could ignore it, but I can't."

"It's only this past week."

"Fuck no. We've both been out of control for months."

"Oh, yea. You've been, been out of control. Sure."

I wanted to yell at her, shake her, but I couldn't. I had been out of control. I had been pleaing cases I would never in a million years have offered a plea on. Not only that, but I had the distinct memory of making out with Jim in my office, something I would never manage to accept from myself. We had gotten into a round of verbal blows which was actually not all that uncommon for us. The uncommon part was how the fight ended with Jim basically telling me I needed to get laid before his mouth crashed over mine, my back flat against my desk. It had taken me a moment to respond. I hadn't wanted to, which I think was my problem, but I found myself kissing him back. Generically getting laid would have been fine if I weren't not only a lesbian but genuinely in love with Casey despite all of our problems. Neither of us had left the relationship even as we broke down. Something, some glue, still held us together. And, as I had heard the buttons on my shirt pop, I closed my eyes, shaking my head. When I told him I couldn't do it, Jim had only growled in frustration and left my office, me still sitting on my desk.

That had not been my last transgression, though. I had kissed him again after that. I wasn't attracted to him despite his crush on me, but it was an outlet. It was something I could hate myself for and, in hating myself, remember that there was more to life than the pain Casey had found herself drowning in despite my attempts to rescue her. With my life spiraling equally as out of control as hers, though, I didn't know what I could possibly rescue her into.

"We both need help," I said as gently as I could.

In the silence, I sat, my thumb still stroking her cheek. My other hand was occupied by hers in my lap, and she was drifting in and out of a drug induced sleep. "My beautiful Casey," I whispered, "when did we fall so far?" I could not pin point it, but it became apparent to me that it had been sometime within the past six months. Those first three months, when Temperance had first gone missing, it had been expected that we would be different, that we would fall apart. And, we did, her more so than I because I didn't believe I had the right.

A light knock on the door made me tear my eyes from Casey's sleeping form. "Damien," I murmured. "I didn't think we were supposed to see each other in public."

The lean Russian pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down, his hand on my knee. I looked at him, panic, horror, and grief all melting in my face, pulling at the corners of my eyes. "Oh, Alexandra. When I imagined a life for you, I did not imagine this. I am so, so sorry."

"What do I do?" I asked, truly at a stopping point in my life. I had hit a wall, the first real wall I had encountered. Dying, I had gotten over. Being a part of the Bratva, I had gotten over. This, though, this absolute, empty, hollow pain was not something I knew how to deal with. I just did not know. "My wife tried to kill herself whether with conscious intent or not, she drank and took sleeping pills. I should have stopped her. I knew something like this was going to happen, even if by accident. She's been taking sleeping pills off and on for months to sleep. She's just never taken them with alcohol before."

It was a battle to maintain my composure, and when Damien stood up, his arms wrapping around me, I fell into him. "This, too, you both shall overcome, Alexandra," he told me, stroking my hair as I lay my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating. "You've beaten death now twice, Alexandra. No matter what happens with this, you'll overcome this. And, Casey's strong, too. She'll pull through."

I just clung to him the same way I did when I was a little kid, when my immune system sucked and I spent what felt like half of my life burrowing under piles of blankets trying to get warm and stay awake long enough to read whatever book I had found interesting at that moment. I wanted to be small again, to have the only worry in my world be whether or not the book had a sequel, to know that someone would always be there to comfort me and watch over me. I think, in a way, I still had that in Damien. He was still my guardian even though I had grown up and grown independent. I needed someone to cling to, and there he was, like family. Better than my family.

He brushed the tears from my cheeks, stepping back. "I wanted to make sure she was going to be alright," he said, looking at Casey. "She's like family to me, Alexandra. You need to know that. She's your wife, and that makes her family. We will protect her."

"I know," I said. "You have before. Tell me if that is Tee in Minnesota, Damien, and what I can do about it? I want Jesse dead with everything dark inside of me, and it seems like, lately, there's so much dark."

"You don't want a trial?" he asked, raising a brow.

I shook my head. "Tommy is eligible to be released on parole in three months, Damien. David's eligible in five years. Andy in eighteen months. It makes me sick to my stomach that those nightmares may be out walking the streets again soon enough, and Casey will have to pay that price. She will have to go into David's parole board hearing and plead with them to not release the man who started all of this. Jesse doesn't get that chance. It ends, even if it makes me a murderer to do it."

Damien only nodded. "The noble killer," he mused. "We've got a couple of our guys in the agency. I'll see what we can do." I only nodded, the knot in my stomach tightening. Was I really so vengeful? But, if he were given a trial and later parole, what would I do when he came back? Would he hurt Casey again? What about Temperance?

"Damien," I asked, "what happened to Tee?"

"I don't know. I wish I did, darling." He watched me carefully for a few moments, but my attention was drawn to the sleeping Casey. She was out cold, her breathing steady and deep. Damien's eyes traveled to her as well. "It's going to take every ounce of love between you to pull yourselves up, Alexandra."

"I know," I murmured, leaning over and kissing Casey's lips, just the barest of touches. She hardly ever let me kiss her any more. There was a faint taste of whiskey on her lips, and I cringed to think of how far she had climbed only to fall back to this. "I love you, Casey Elisabet. That's not going away. I'm not going away. You better not go, either."

In her sleep, she moaned.

"I have to go, Alexandra. Call Tony if you need anything. I'll come by tomorrow and check on you both."

I nodded. "Thank you, Damien," I mumbled. "It really does mean a lot to me."

Closing my eyes, I sighed. Before the Bratva, I could not have asked for someone to die without a fair trial and a death penalty eligible offense. But, then, before Jesse, the loves of my life had not been stolen from me and brutalized. That the two happened at once seemed unhappy coincidence, and they had changed me and my morals forever. I learned I could kill. I could hold a firearm comfortably in my hands and shoot as Erich and Tony had taught me to shoot. There was a dark, quiet place inside of me, and I could travel there, take aim, and fire. Again and again, fire. It was one thing to die by remaining hidden, another thing entirely to die when one's soul changed.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: I apologize if there's a discrepancy. With so many stories going on, I know there's bound to be one. Plus, it's been a while since I visited this one. I hope you enjoy the update. Thanks, as always, for the reads and reviews. **

_I want to know you. __Know your voice. __Recognize you when you __first come 'round the corner. __Sense your scent when I come __into a room you've just left. __Know the lift of your heel, __the glide of your foot. __Become familiar with the way __you purse your lips __then let them part, __just the slightest bit, __when I lean in to your space __and kiss you. __I want to know the joy __of how you whisper__"more."_

I stood in the middle of a strange hospital in a stranger town in the middle of a strange state, and I had lived in many. Minnesota, however, has not been on that list. Or, maybe it had. I had been awake for three consecutive days, and it was beginning to show. I was lethargic and hurting. Casey was little different. She had been released with a contract between her and the psychologist at the hospital that meant nothing legally, but it seemed to make Casey feel better. She wouldn't kill herself was what the paper said. And, if hse felt like hurting herself, she would notify me. Fine. It was the only way to talk the doctors into releasing her for this little trip. The trip, I thought, would actually do both of more good than anything else anywhere else might have done.

"You ready, Alexandra?" Damien asked me. He had accompanied us on my request, and he seemed only happy to do so. I had not voiced my thoughts, but the past two days had made them ever the more clear. Much to Malachai's dismay and my surprise, Damien had just about bent over backwards for Casey and myself. He had not been kidding. He considered my family part of his, even if his was the Bratva. The Russians weren't so bad, and even if I was linguistically not Russian, that blood ran through my veins. It had to have. I could not afford to be so oblivious with such an obvious mark any longer, though I had not questioned Damien or Malachai over the issue, nor had I brought it up with my father. Still, maybe that explained my darkness and how easily it consumed me.

His hand squeezed my shoulder, and I realized he was looking for an answer. I nodded. "Yes," I said. We had been warned, Casey and myself, that Temperance was not in the best of shape. It wasn't that she had been necessarily deliberately abused, said the social worker, but her special needs had been neglected. The medications she had been on when living with me and Casey, she had been off. She was non-verbal again, using what the social worker described as a point and grunt communication technique. She was wetting herself, underweight, and seemingly back tracking in her capabilities as opposed to progressing. But, Casey had been right. Our daughter was alive. We could spend the next years working on undoing the damage Jesse had done. The point was that she was alive.

I was thanking God that she was young enough that she would remember very little of what happened. I told Casey that as soon as she was released, we would get her into play therapy and into a private school that specialized in individual instruction for students like Tee. That way, we could hopefully help her get back on track faster, though I suspected we would never get her completely caught up with her age group. She had been special needs before. From the social worker's description, that only seemed to be more intense all these months later.

Hugging my arms tighter around Casey, I kissed her cheek. "Honey, remember what Maggie told us? That she might not remember us. She has, after all, been through a lot in the past year, and it is only to be expected that a four year old would not have the memory capacity to recall someone she had not seen in such a long time."

Casey nodded, but I did not think that she really understood. I think she was a mother who would never forget her child, no matter the circumstances, and I don't think that she understood that a child might not recall a mother. Pressing my lips together, I looked to Damien. Could the same be said of the other parent? "I just wanna see her, Alex," she whispered. I could hear the difficulty she was having speaking, and it made my heart break.

"I do, too." I kissed her cheek, just a brush of my lips against her skin and nothing more. "You go in first, Casey." My voice was barely a whisper. I gave Damien's hand a quick squeeze, silently offering my gratitude at his accompanying us. I knew that even with Casey not knowing about the whole mafia business deal, she was fond of Damien as much as he had become fond of her. Casey might not have understood why I suddenly seemed so much closer to family that I had not mentioned to her while we had been dating and I was, for all intent, dead. I felt badly for leaving her in the dark, but, at the same time, I could not bring myself to destroy her world.

We clung to each other's hands as she led the way inside the brightly painted room behind the doctor in a blue and red tye dye lab coat. Everything about the floor was geared toward making children feel comfortable, and I appreciated it.

The little body in the middle of the bed, sheets blue and yellow, looked so out of place. Such small people should not exist inside of hospitals except on the day of their birth and maybe a day or two after. I remembered Temperance in her incubator after she was born, and the days and weeks that Casey and I spent in the hospital, attached to the tiny infant.

An oxygen tube ran from either nostril of the sleeping girl, her eyes closed in rest. The staff had taped the tube to her cheeks making her look even smaller, even more overwhelmed by the machinery monitoring her life. Even at four, Tee's cheek bones were prominent, her lips tight around her teeth. In the past year, she had grown taller, but not as much as I had thought she would have given both Jesse and Casey's heights. Her eyes were sunken as though she had regularly not been getting enough sleep. An IV ran from her arm to a small drip bag, and wires on her chest and back showed her heart beat on a screen beside her bed.

If Casey had not been there, I would have cried. As it was, she turned into me, her hands over her face, and she cried. "Alex," she whispered, her voice strained.

I kissed her temple. "I've got you. We've got her back, Casey. We'll be alright." I carefully directed Casey toward the chair beside Temperance's bed, and when she sat down, her hand still clutching mine, I couldn't stop the tears that leaked out.

Gingerly, Casey picked up Tee's hand, kissing her fingers. "Hey, baby girl," she whispered. "Momma and Mommy are here. We finally found you, and we came back to get you. Matty misses you lots."

I crouched beside the bed, tucking my finger beneath Tee's fingers as Casey rubbed the tops. Even though she had not opened her eyes, she squeezed my finger the same way she had when she had raised her hand up to mine to hold hands walking across the street. Casey burst into a sob. I bit my cheek so hard I swore I could taste blood.

In her sleep, our daughter moaned, turning her head toward us. She blinked open her eyes, and in the florescent light of the hospital, the flecks of green that had intruded her eyes from Casey's set of genetic markers blazed through. Her lips parted, but she just stared quietly up at us.

"Hi, Princess," Casey whispered, reaching over, her fingers grazing over the little girl's powdered cocoa colored cheek. I watched Temperance tense. "It's Mommy, do you remember me?"

Still staring with uncertainty, Temperance nodded. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to Casey. She grunted, pointing at Casey's chest, clenching and unclenching her fist.

"What?" Casey murmured, touching her chest, the outline of the locket protruding beneath her shirt. Quickly, Casey dug that out, unclasping it from her neck. She held it out to Temperance. "Is this what you want? Mommy's locket?"

The girl made grabbing motions until Casey placed it in her hands, and, when she did, Tee took it, holding it close, inspecting it. She pushed the small latch button to undo it, though she lacked the coordination, so I reached over and gently pressed the button, the locket coming open in her hands. On the right hand side, Casey had placed a picture of me. On the left, of Temperance, the last photograph we had taken of her.

She smacked at my picture with her hand, her lips smacking as she made an 'ah' sound.

"Momma," Casey said. "She's trying to say Momma. That's what she used to do when I would give her pictures of you when she was a baby."

I smiled, kissing Casey's hand. She was still squeezing my fingers as though letting go would mean certain death. I think it was taking everything that the both of us had to keep our respective composure. "Good job, Tee-tee," I purred, stroking the child's hair back from her face. Her hair was still the dark brown it had been when she was three, but I could see where there seemed to be hints of dark red hiding between the strands. I did not know if it had always been there, or if it were because she were growing older and she was starting to show her individual genetic disposition a little more as she developed. "Can you show me Mommy?"

Temperance stared at me, as though she were surprised I was making noises. It dawned on me, then, that she might not be able to understand me. I turned to see Damien standing in the doorway, watching us. 'Dead,' I mouthed. 'I want him dead.'

It was so very rare of me to succumb to my anger. In fact, it was only with Jesse that I seemed to take that final leap, that gun in my hands, ready to kill kind of leap. I remembered Don before I was shot, him giving me a firearm to protect myself, and me staring at him like it was some kind of joke. I had no problem with the police using guns. Really, I had no issues with good guys with guns. But, me? I had never once imagined I would shoot a gun. And, then, to have that steel and powder power in my hands in my kitchen in Santa Fe when I returned fire over Casey's crumpled body, in Montana where I learned to shoot with accuracy and conviction, and in that messy room where we found Casey? That had been so far beyond my imaginings that I had done it before I even realized what it all meant. I had accomplished that level of implied violence, the implication that holding a gun meant I was willing to take a life, and I was.

Damien nodded his head once, and I did not know if that meant that he was agreeing with me, that the man needed to be punished in a way our justice system could never punish him, or if it meant he would do me the favor. With Damien, it was impossible to tell. Sometimes, I owed him. Sometimes, he owed me. Other times, we came to a mutual agreement. I did not know how I felt about that relationship. At least with Malachai, it was easy to tell. I always owed him. Or, he owed me.

I was careful as I watched Casey, as she played her fingers over Temperance's tiny hands. "When you get a little better, Tem, you'll come home with Momma and me, okay? Go see Matt and Auntie Maddie and Uncle Jake?" Our daughter just smiled at her, eyes searching for approval. But, I could tell, nothing was sinking in.

_That night, Casey and I both slept in Temperance's room. It was against hospital policy, but I did not think that the doctor appreciated arguing with two attorney mothers and a federal agent. It seemed kind of strange that there was law enforcement presence in the hospital. I had been under the impression that Jesse had been arrested following him dropping Temperance off, but after speaking with local police, I learned that he had dropped her off and left, no one noticing because the Emergency Department had been swamped following a bus-semi collision that over turned the bus. Damien apologized for the misinformation he had been given, but I did not care about that. _

_All I cared about was that someone was out there searching for Jesse, and the most important thing was that someone in the Bratva found him first. I didn't care if it were a cop being paid off by the Russians. Even the more Midwestern Russians seemed open to Damien's requests. Family, it seemed, was family. At least, that was what I told myself as I lay on the cot, Casey pulled close to me. Casey had cried herself to sleep. She had not been noisy about it, but she had been tearful. I felt so bad. I had no way of consoling her because I had no means of comforting myself. We were both strung out on this one, but I was just so glad she had a reason in her life again to be careful. If she pulled another sleeping pills and alcohol related stunt, I knew I would break down completely. _

_After three days, Temperance was considered well enough to be discharged and transported to New York. Already, there, Damien and I had made arrangements for her to be looked after by the brotherhood's doctor in Casey and my home. He agreed to stop in once a day and examine her to make sure she was progressing. Department of Human Services in Minnesota contacted Department of Human Services in New York to keep an eye on the little girl. I doubted either Casey or I would hear from a social worker. They were too swamped to worry about a child in the care of a wealthy family with a good size of the population of the NYPD and the Manhattan District Attorney looking out for her wellbeing. Still, we promised to check in with them, and we would at least call. _

_I had started working on getting Temperance enrolled in a school that would be able to help her work on her developmental delays. I thought a lot of it had to do with her time with Jesse, and over the next few weeks in New York, it turned out that it was correct. While her seizures had not necessarily caused it, there was apparently medical evidence of physical trauma to Temperance's brain. No one could say for certain what caused it, but my worry was that Jesse had shaken or hit her. _

_Casey and I enrolled her in play therapy to start the healing process, and with her suspended, she took up homeschooling Tee while I continued to play with Cabot money and the Cabot name in finding a suitable school. We both decided that public schooling was not an option. Not when better ones existed within our financial means._

_What impressed me most was that Casey seemed to make headway with sign language in Temperance's communicative skills. While Tem was not deaf, she seemed to understand signs better than words, something about it being processed in two different parts of the brain. I did not understand, but the mafia doctor she still saw seemed to understand and was fascinated by the almost immediate progress she showed. _

_As we fell into a regular pattern with our daughter back, safe, with us, I saw Casey's mood change. She became more cautious again, perhaps even more than before. She was still working on her own experiences with Jesse and Chris, her second captor, and we both had a difficult time with taking Temperance anywhere to be watched by anyone else – in fact, Casey did not. But, she also became happier. I heard her laugh more, saw her smile more. Despite our latest hardship, she was genuinely feeling better. Nothing, though, was as difficult as trying to live with the loss of a child. So, it seemed to make sense that things fell back into place once we had our daughter back. _

_I was offered a position in Appeals, something I happily took. It was disheartening to know that it was, in part, at the request of the brotherhood that I wind up there, but I enjoyed being out of homicide nonetheless. It took me upstate, and Casey and Temperance followed. We had managed for a tutor for Temperance but had not chosen the school even though I had been able to enroll her. The homeschooling thing was working out really well, and Temperance was not very open to change. Given everything the child had suffered in her young life, we opted to take a break from changing too much for the girl, at least until she could heal a little more. So, even with the move, we were able to hire a tutor upstate to work with Temperance overall and Casey and myself with sign language. We both took evening courses at the community college to help us learn better and faster. Temperance was learning faster than we were. There was more than one conversation where neither Casey nor I could figure out what Tee was talking about because we did not know the sign. _

Sighing, I knocked on the District Attorney's office door, straightening my suit jacket as he called, "Come in." I had been summoned down from upstate Appeals for a meeting that was scheduled for a grand total of two hours. I had no idea what it was, but I went because I still worked for Manhattan District Attorney. I just worked in the Court of Appeals. I had an office at the court house and worked on behalf of the Manhattan DA on any case that went to appeals. It was informative and political, but I was not entirely enchanted with the job.

One of the first things I had done when I had returned to New York from Minnesota was sit down with my boss and tell him about Casey and myself. Gay marriage was not legal in New York, but that did not matter much to me. Casey was my wife, and I realized by keeping my world so hush hush, I had inherently not been able to be there for her in a manner in which she may have needed my. Branch had not been angry with me. In fact, he had been very understanding. He had congratulated me, first, and then said that my mood swings that past year had suddenly been much more understandable. Casey was not the only ADA missing her daughter. It had actually been part of why he had offered the appeals position in the first place, wondering if we needed a break from the city, which we had.

I entered the office, not in the least surprised to see Branch there for it was his office, but I was taken aback by the presence of Captain Don Cragen. "Alex," he said, standing and shaking my hand.

For several moments, I stared at him in silence. "Don," I finally said. "It's good to see you."

"And you, though the squad does not know I'm here." I nodded. He among the squad was the only one to know I had returned to New York. I felt bad about it, but truth be told, even after everything that had gone one with Temperance and Casey, I was still not ready to see Olivia or Elliot again.

I bit my lip. "Thank you," I said. "For everything regarding Tee, I mean." I had not seen him but once since we had brought Temperance back. And, after we moved, I lost connection with him. I knew Casey did not keep in touch with anyone from the squad, either, and I had to admit that I knew Olivia and Fin probably felt somewhat slighted. Temperance was like their neice.

He nodded his understanding. "She's like my granddaughter, Alex. I would do anything to put her back in your arms. But, that is not why I am here."

I raised my brows. What more could they possibly want of me? My life was so hectic and confusing. I did not know what else I could possibly add to the scenario to make it more relieving.

Branch spoke up as though he could read my mind. "I want to offer you your old position back, Alex, as ADA for the Special Victims Unit."

I flinched. It was not because I did not want it. Actually, I wanted it bad. With Casey away from the unit, I could see where it was struggling in the side of the District Attorney. One attorney had been unable to stay with the unit for any particular amount of time. It meant the cases suffered an inattention that they had not suffered since I had been assigned to the unit. Even Casey had been attentive and driven. But, with the ADAs switching dockets so frequently, it was becoming a hazard, a liability. It made me hurt internally to know that cases were not being treated as they deserved.

Pressing a hand to my stomach, I stared between the two men. I thought I might be sick, but, fortunately, I was not. "I would love it back, Arthur, but-"

"The unit is a mess, Alex," Don said. "None of us have heard from you or Casey in forever, so there's worry there. But, there's also a lack of morale. We're not used to a new DA every few weeks. It's frustrating. Cases are suffering."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled. "But, Don, Casey and I didn't want to be contacted. We're trying to hard to put our lives back together while still moving forward. Some things are just too complicated." Casey had finally told me what happened to her while she was in Jesse's custody. What she had told me made it seem less surprising that the sleeping pill incident might have been intentional though she swore up and down that it was not. I chewed my lip. "Casey still does not want to be contacted. If I come back, can you all respect that? She's trying to heal from a lot of trauma, and I think seeing the people she knew from when it happened is not something she's ready for. Hell, I don't know if I'm ready to work with Olivia again. Except for the Connor's trial, the last time she and I worked together, it wound up with her hands in a hole in my chest. That's a lot to get through."

Don nodded. "I understand, Alex. Both you and Casey have had a lot on your plates these past few years between everything. We know the kidnapping changed everything for you. No one in the squad is going to ask you to give more than you can."

I nodded. Jesse was still at large, though there was a nationwide extraditable warrant out of the NYPD for him. Damien, Malachai, Erich, and Tony all kept their eyes and ears open for information. I still wanted us to get to him first. Even if I didn't kill him, I wanted him dead, and since Casey and Temperance had both lived, nothing he did to them constituted the death penalty by statute. I was so grateful that both of my girls lived, but I still wanted him dead. I was learning to live with the dark beast that sat inside me, her claws sharp and unused but always willing. "Alright," I agreed. "I would love my old job back. When do I start?"

"Right now," Branch instructed, sending me on my way with Don to a crime scene, to see the detectives I had not seen in so long. It took everything I had to maintain my Cabot composure. A crime scene was hardly the place for an emotional reunion.


	30. Chapter 30

_Sometimes, there are things done that cannot be undone, and I had done one of those things. I had completely neglected the people who had been my closest friends before I had been shot. _

I sat at the bar beside Olivia, long after the boys had left following my welcome back reunion as we neared the close of the case, twirling a shot glass between my fingers. "You and Casey still together?" Olivia asked me, staring at her glass.

"Yea," I said. "We're, um, planning a wedding. We don't know when. But, gay marriage is okay in Massachusetts already, Vermont and Maine seem to be about to get on board. It's 2009, it's only a matter of time for New York."

"It'll be the first time you're both out of the closet."

"Big time out of the closet," I agreed, biting my lip.

Olivia nodded, downing her fourth shot since the men had left, maybe her eighth or ninth of the night. She was angry with me. I could feel it. I didn't blame her, so I would let her take her time getting to the whole business of chewing me out. "What about Tempe?"

"She's doing well. Um, Casey started using sign language with her. She's doing the homeschooling thing right now. We're both taking signing classes in whatever free time we can find. I'm not really sure if Tem even understands the spoken word. It's been several months since she came back to us." I could feel the tears clinging in my eyes.

Olivia shrugged. "You know, the last time I saw her, it was before that bastard took her away from you."

I nodded. "I'm sorry, Olivia."

"She's like my niece, Alex. You- I was so mad at Casey for keeping her away from the squad. And, then, to find out it wasn't just her, it was you, too. Why? We're family to that kid, Alex."

I bit the end of my lip, swallowing hard. "When, uh, when we got her back, Liv, she couldn't even say who we were. I was 'ah' for a week, Olivia. Casey was nothing except a hand stretched out, fist opening and closing. My daughter, four years old, was completely nonverbal and in diapers. The doctors said she was probably shaken, but because she was slightly more developed than an infant, the damage to her brain was minimized slightly."

"What does that mean?" Olivia asked me, chewing on the stirring straws offered out on the bar. I never did understand the whole bit about putting things into one's mouth overly exposed to the public. But, then, I did buy hotdogs from carts every once in a while.

Sighing, I wrapped my arms around my shoulders. "It's the difference between uh, assault one and assault two."

"Oh," Olivia said. Serious bodily injury versus mere bodily injury. It was a distinction that made sense in my mind and was about the only way I had managed to process the entire thing.

"Yea," I whispered, staring into the whiskey in the glass before I downed the entire thing. The burn felt crisp against my throat, but not fresh. I had already had a couple of shots earlier in the night. I had asked Casey if it were okay. She had only asked that I not talk about her. "Tests and tests later, and points and grunts, no progress in her speech or apparent understanding of the spoken word. I didn't feel like facing the world, let alone you guys. Plus, I still hadn't really dealt with being shot. I woke up once, on the couch, to Tee braiding my hair because I thought she was trying to kill me. Casey and I both suffered from nightmares on a regular basis. I found myself in places, doing things, talking to people I never thought I would. God, Liv, you were my best friend. Since I was shot, you don't know the things I've done."

"Casey and I talked, before she was suspended, after I knew you two were involved only after you went into WitSec. She told me how you met, how you shot David. You saved her life. And, Temperance's, multiple times. She told me about Ireland and how you wrapped up around her on the boat to keep her from freezing to death. And the boy."

"He died," I whispered. "Casey blamed herself."

"I know. The night she told me about him, I had to drive her home. She was too drunk to even stand. I stayed with her the whole night. She screamed and yelled and cried. She said she would never be a fit mother. She risked the life of one child to try to save another."

"She risked her own life," I argued. "She would have done anything to save him."

Olivia nodded, agreeing with me. "I know. She's a good woman, Alex. You two have been through a lot. All you deserve is happiness."

I gave a half smile, half frown. "We're working on it. But, I think we really needed to spend some time working on us. Did she talk to you after she was suspended?" Olivia shook her head. "She nearly died. She swears she didn't mean it, but she combined alcohol and sleeping pills."

"Oh, Alex," Olivia breathed.

Shaking my head, I pushed my empty glass onto the bar mat. "Don't pity us, Olivia. Please. I didn't agree to go out to drink with my best friend to be pitied by her."

"I know," Olivia said. "I didn't mean to. Will Casey be coming around the office now that you're back with SVU?"

I tried to smile. "Probably not. She's specifically asked me not to drag her around here." I shook my head again. "She lost herself completely, Liv, after Tem was taken. When we got her back, it was like she was a corpse coming back to life. We both were. She didn't know what to do when she was told she couldn't be a lawyer. But, being a stay at home mom really works for her. What happened to her at the hands of David and later, Jesse, and what happened to Tempe, Liv, Casey doesn't want to be a part of this world any more. And, frankly, I don't blame her."

"What do you mean? Are you leaving again?"

"No," I said. "But, this is hard. I see Casey in everything. Liv, I picked her up from a tiny room in a farm house where things happened to her that I can't even begin to explain. She was found in the basement of a house, covered in blood and barely conscious. She. What they did, what he did, to her, it's disgusting, Olivia. That she was able to prosecute for you guys at all is beyond me. But, I see her in the cases I've been reading. I know what it's like to be the boyfriend, the mother, the sister, the lover finding out that someone I love is a victim of assault. I've watched her pass the gambit of hating the idea of being pregnant to being terrified of losing her baby to fighting took and nail to get our daughter back. It all took so much out of her. I'm amazed at how much she's bounced back. Not that you would ruin it, Liv, but this world, it would. It would take her back again, or, at least, I think we're both afraid it will."

Olivia held up two fingers to the bar tender who passed us both a shot a piece. "I get that, I guess. When she's ready, she'll come back around."

"Yea."

"What about Tempe?"

I smiled. "I'll talk to Casey. We'll figure out what's going to be best for her. Her therapist says that what she saw Jesse do to Casey was pretty ingraining. She's drawn pictures of it. Or, her rendition of it. There's a lot of black, Olivia. And red. I'm so scared that what she saw will never be erased. I don't want to give her more trauma in the squad room."

"Then, at the park," Olivia said. "Or out for ice cream. Or something mundane, something normal."

"It's Special Victims, Olivia," I answered. "When is there normal? I'll talk to Casey, talk to her about a neutral place, a park. I'm not promising anything, Olivia. I want Tempe to have her Auntie in her life as much as you want to be there, but I'm not going to argue with Casey on this one." I bit my lip again. "I can't, Olivia. I'm sorry."

A large part of me knew how angry she wanted to be, how angry she was. Casey and I, as a collective, had taken the closest child she could identify as family from her. I felt bad, but I was not lying. I would not argue with Casey if she said no. I would only ask her for time to think about it, to consider the impact seeing someone that Temperance had trusted and loved before being abducted. It could go both ways. It might be that Tempe would remember Olivia or at least reconnect with her. It might be that, like her biological mother, she would withdraw and things would get worse.

"I've gotta head out, Liv. I'll see you Monday morning for openings?"

"Yea," Olivia agreed. "Sleep well, Cabot. Give that little girl a hug, will ya?"

"Always."

I walked back to the subway, my head lost in thought. Even as I deboarded the train and headed back toward our shared apartment, I was out for the count as far as being aware went. I knew it was risky. I should not have done that. Jesse's fascination might have been with Casey, but my fiancée was very much concerned that he might go after me, too. He was still, after all, a fugitive from justice.

Stumbling into the living room, I covered a sleeping Casey with a blanket and went into my daughter's room to check on her. She was curled around a teddy bear, thumb in her mouth, fast asleep. I watched her breathe for several seconds. I knew better than to sneak in her room and try to kiss her cheek. She was a light sleeper. It would wake her up, sometimes screaming. If she slept, Casey and I had learned it was best to simply allow her to sleep.

Satisfied, I slid back into the living room and curled up against Casey. "You're finally home," she whispered.

"Yea, honey. How are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Olivia asked to see Tempe," I murmured.

"I don't want to go," Casey said, her lip tucked.

Nodding, I wrapped my arms around her. "You don't have to. Neither does Tee. I told Olivia I wouldn't argue with you on this."

"I think Tee might benefit," Casey murmured. "I just don't know. I'll bring it up with her therapist when we go tomorrow. Speaking of, it's Saturday, are you going?"

"Of course," I whispered. "I would never miss a session. How did school go today?"

Casey smiled. "Good. We started working on the alphabet workbook I showed you. She's doing pretty well. She's getting better with her sign letters, too. Oh, um, Temmy made something for you. It's in the kitchen. Hang on." Casey slid out from under me, and I sat up, waiting for her to return. As she did, I watched her walk. She was so much better, so much healthier than when I had first met her. Over the last few months, she had put the weight back on that she had lost and her muscle definition was beginning to return. I was trying to talk her into signing up for an adult recreational softball league for the summer, but she was still incredibly on the fence about it. I knew she felt like she were leaving Tempe, but I assured her that I would be happy to spend some Momma-Temmy time on practice nights, and then we would both make all of her games. I thought I was winning her over to the idea. Sitting down, she handed me a little paper picture with colorful, puffy poms glued on to it.

As I took the paper from her, I admired how well put together it seemed. Temperance was improving, slowly but steadily. I doubted she would ever truly catch up to children her own age, but she was significantly better than when she was a few months prior. The poms were in the outline of a butterfly, one that had already been drawn on the paper, but the poms glued on to the outline and interior were her doing. "It's beautiful, Casey. Did you help her?"

"No," Casey said. "Matt did. Maddie and Matt came over to visit today. Matt's been working on his sign language. It's making it easier on Tempe, but I feel bad Matt has to learn."

"He's a good kid," I said.

She nodded. "Hey, Temmy's probably gonna want to show you tomorrow morning. Be surprised?"

"Of course," I said, pulling her down and into my lap, kissing her softly. "Come on, honey. Let's go to bed."

_Time passed both too slowly and too fast for several weeks. I regained the trust of the squad but I still had no confidence in myself. Something about SVU just did not sit right with me. I loved it. It was my life. I had a drive that few prosecutors could say they had. Not only was I previously experienced, but I wanted to go after rapists and abusers before we found another woman like Casey, another woman tied, bound, gagged, raped, beaten, and whatever else any of them did to her. Jesse was sick, and I wanted every single Jesse in the world dead. Plus, there was always the chance that his MO would pop up again. Damien had done his thing to put me in SVU for a reason, and while it was selfish for me, I did not mind. _

_He had only told me that if that same MO did come up, he wanted to know post haste. I promised I would let him know, but I doubted anything Jesse did would come up in New York. He had taken Tempe to Montana. The chances of him remaining in New York were slim. My best guess was that he was in another state, but I had little else to go on. If the local agencies ran issues through VICAP like they were supposed to, Jesse's MO would pop up if something matched. But, I knew from experience that not all agencies did that, especially not smaller ones. It made me wonder how many women he had hurt before Casey and how many since. Had he done it while Temperance was in his custody? I worried about the things she had seen. _

_But, as the months passed, that was not the only thing I thought of. I tried to think of Temperance growing up, about when it would be appropriate to put her into a private school – Casey and I still decided against public because the special education sector in public schools was not sufficient to meet the needs of the number of special needs students. _

_Temperance became more verbal. She learned to recognize her own name as well as 'Tem,' 'Tee,' and 'Tempe.' She knew 'Momma' and 'Mommy.' She could say 'Om' for Casey and 'Ah' for me, but her actual verbal connectivity was slim, but better. I took her around Olivia, Fin, and the gang from time to time, and she came to recognize them. But, she was still very untrusting about others, including the detectives. Casey refused to hang around them. She did not like to socialize outside of our familial unit. I did not blame her. Outside of my wife and child and the detectives, I was not very social, either. She had her fifth birthday, though it was something small, the detectives threw her a little bash at the unit, but Casey and I just did our own thing with her. She was still adapting to change, and it was a slow process. A party would have been something foreign to her, and we wanted to be careful introducing her. The New Year's Eve celebrations days before we celebrated her birthday had terrified her. Christmas had been the same way. She had hated the wrapping paper on her presents so much that she was almost paralyzed. So, we kept it simple, no wrapping paper, no candles on the cupcake, just a little song, uncovered presents, and a trip to the children's museum. _

_To Malachai's dismay, Damien refused to push me into working for them. Malachai eventually asked me to be a defense attorney for the Bratva. I told him to suck it, though I was probably a little more diplomatic than that. Nevertheless, Malachai reminded me of my place and Damien reminded him of his. I was learning more and more about who ran my family heritage, though no one would nor had asked about my exact heritage. I was too afraid of being right, but I was even more terrified of being wrong. If there was not commonality in blood, then I did not want to know why Damien was so lenient and giving with me. It would mean something else, probably a sense of guilt not relating to abandonment, and I just did not want to know. _

_Damien spent a lot of time with Temperance. Based on the fact that she was my child, I knew he would not hurt her. She was too mentally damaged to be of much use to him except to manipulate me, but it was no secret in the Bratva that I did not need to be manipulated any longer. My hate and rage and loathing had grown. I could do a lot of dark damage. I had partaken in illegal activities, and by that time, I did not feel guilty for what I had done. Perhaps I could still not allow a man to be charged with a crime he did not commit. Perhaps I still had a great deal of my legal and moral ethics intact, but that small egg inside me that could dismiss that had grown. It had eaten some of my morals, but, strangely, I felt safer and more in control of my life and my wife's safety than I had ever before in my life. I did not trust the government any longer just off the context of the fact that it was the government. Equally, I did not wholly trust the brotherhood. And, yet, I was becoming more experienced and knowledgeable. And, with that, I felt better, in control. I wanted to take on more, to take on the world, not just New York or the United States. And, I had the opportunity to do just that. _

I woke up the one morning nearly a year after I had been reassigned to SVU with Casey curled against my stomach, Temperance curled against hers. As I sat up a little in bed, I was somewhat surprised to see the little five year-old. Normally, I heard her enter. She had a habit of making a noise of some kind whenever she entered a room by herself. I did not know if that was a quirk or if it were something Jesse had taught her to do.

My sitting up, unfortunately, also woke the baby, and she sat up, too, rapidly, staring at me with unblinking eyes. She would always be the baby to me, too. I missed so much of her life, and I did not intend to lose more, but even as she grew older and became more independent of Casey and me, she would remain my baby, and I would protect her as such.

-Morning, Temperance- I signed, using the name sign that Casey had given her as opposed to us spelling out her name every time we addressed her by name. –Sleep well?-

She nodded.

We had a fairly set morning routine. Temperance did not like change in the kind of way that a rock tended to not like change. It did not matter whether or not it was Casey or I that completed the routine with her, but at least one of us had to do it. I smiled, sliding off the bed and pattering around, Casey still out like a light, to gather Tempe in my arms. She looped her arms around my neck and hung on as we made our way to her bedroom, and I opened the closet doors.

Step one was always pick out clothes for the day.

She had Casey's tastes in colors, straying regularly to the green shades, but she had learned conservatism from me and usually picked out long sleeves and pants. I usually tried to exchange at least one for short sleeves or shorts if I could and it were weather appropriate, but I think she had learned something about clothes from Jesse, too. My worry was that he put her in long sleeves to cover bruises.

From there, it was to the bathroom where she would pull off her Pull Ups, try to use the toilet to which we so far had no success except her genuine effort which we were okay with, wash her face and hands, brush her teeth, dress, and do her hair. I pulled her dark rusty brown hair back into two little pig tails, curling her hair around my finger.

Turning, she glanced up at me. I almost never saw her smile. Neither did Casey. Occasionally, we could get her to laugh, but those times were few and far between, and she always stopped herself as she heard herself giggle, her hands clamped over her mouth. Sometimes, she would shush us if we laughed.

–Momma, me hungry.-

–Want make Mommy breakfast?- Again, she nodded. I scooped her up, kissing her cheek as we headed into the kitchen and I plopped her onto the counter top by the sink. Casey and I had seen her do some very strange things. She had a set of rules by which she abided, and, for the most part, we gave into those rules, her therapist telling us that where she was at right then, it would have been too traumatic to so drastically change her world again. As it was, she was already proving to be resilient. Temperance folded her hands in her lap and looked at me with the kind of focus someone had when they were not seeing a person, but waiting for something. In this case, Tempe was waiting for me to say something.

–What want? Pancakes?-

For a moment, my daughter thought about what I had asked her. Then, she looked at me, repeating the sign for 'pancakes,' managing to look thoroughly lost. "Ah. Um, hang on," I mumbled, opening up the pantry door and searching for the Bisquik I knew Casey kept in the apartment despite my affinity for making things from scratch. Finding it, I held out the box. –This pancake.-

Temperance shook her head and pointed to the fridge. –Show Momma- I signed, plucking her off the counter and setting her on the floor before opening the fridge. Immediately, she went digging through the drawer, pulling out and nearly toppling a carton of blueberries.

"Dis," she said as I caught the berries on their way to the ground. Straightening the container, I set that on the counter by the fridge.

"Okay," I said. Then, signing what I spoke, I asked, "What else?"

She picked out strawberries, eggs, sausage, and potatoes. "Okay," I said, speaking in a hushed tone as I signed. She was still able to hear. She was simply not able to understand everything all of the time. Sometimes, she understood. Sometimes, we were speaking a different language. We sincerely hoped that it would change. So little was known about the human brain. Anything was possible. "Help Momma make breakfast?"

She nodded, pointing to the counter beside the stove, and I lifted her up, settling her by the oven and handing her a spoon. "First, we need to heat the oven," I said, signing the signed version of just that. American Sign Language was difficult to acquaint myself with because the syntax differed from English. On the bright side, the language context was similar enough to French that I had little trouble translating, only trouble remembering what my fingers were supposed to do.

We spent the next hour making blueberry and strawberry muffins, poached eggs, hash browns, and sausage gravy, setting up a small tray to picnic in the bedroom. –Mommy wake up- I signed before picking up the tray as Temperance quickly walked into the bedroom.

"Tempe!" Casey squealed after a few seconds, likely already awake before we even put the tray together, pretending to lie asleep until the four year old crawled on the bed with her. Temperance's version of waking Casey up was hovering above her and blowing in her ear. I tried to get her to jump around, but she would not. She had become very serious.

"Om-eee!" she squeaked, the child proving to me that something was still working. He had not damaged everything. I had to close my eyes for a second and exhale slowly. The past months had been trying for both Casey and me. It was one thing wondering what was going on. It was another knowing.

"Tempe helped me make you breakfast," I purred, leaning in and kissing Casey softly as I set the tray up at the end of the bed. –Sit on pillow. We eat breakfast.- I signed to Temperance. She sat beside Casey, cross legged, waiting for me to pass her the little plate I had prepared for her. I passed another plate to Casey and took one for myself, sitting on the other side of Temperance. There was still a plate of muffins on the tray. I had not wanted the gravy to infect what was meant to be fruity.

Casey smiled at me, a rare, genuine smile. "Alex, this is wonderful. Thank you." –Thank you, Temperance- she signed to our daughter –good breakfast.-

-Good.- Temperance signed back, picking at her hash browns with her fingers.

"Thank you, Alex."

I smiled, though it faltered when she gave me that look. It was the look that said whatever she said meant so much more than the words themselves. "What for?" I asked, suspicious.

"For being my rock, my lover when my world went to Hell. But, I hope now that I won't ever go back there. From here, I can move only forward, right? We all can. You, me, Tempe, just going forward. It'll take some time to heal, I know that much, but-"

Nodding, I licked my lips. "No more hurt if I can help it, Casey." I bit my lip. "Um, I got a job offer." Okay, so Damien and Malachai had arranged it. Not that it would be me doing criminal things such as abusing discretion at the District Attorney's office, but still beneficial to all parties involved. Or, at least, beneficial as I saw beneficial which was not their beneficial and it would be beneficial to them, too, in their definition of such a thing.

"Another one? Didn't you just go back to SVU a year ago?" She smiled, shaking her head a little as though it were funny that I was constantly being offered new jobs in new areas.

I nodded. "This one would be in The Hague, Casey. I would be helping a team of international prosecutors and investigators look into the on goings of the DRC, help determine what and if might be prosecuted under CPI rules."

"_Cour pénale international?" she asked, brow raised. She shook her head. "How do you even – wow. The Cabot name goes a lot further than I thought." _

_So did Vinovsky. Actually, it was that one which went a great deal further. And, given that Damien and Malachai both belonged to that family, it meant whatever they wanted, they obtained. So did I by extension of that as well as my own means. _

_"You don't have to say anything now. I told them we needed to talk it over. It would mean moving halfway around the world, or damn near close. But, I won't do it without you and Tempe." _

Casey nodded, thoughtful. "Thank you," she said. "For not wanting to leave us. How long do we have to figure this out?"

"My offer runs out when the verdict returns," I said.

"So, four days minimum, six days tops." I nodded. "They don't give you much notice, do they?"

"I got less working for SVU. The first time, I had less than three hours to prepare myself. The second, Case, I had all of five seconds." She nodded again. We had discussed that. She had not been too keen on my return to SVU. To be honest, I had not been so up for the idea myself, but when the boss told me something – either of my bosses – then it meant that I would do it. And, when both of them were on the same page – I had no suspicions about McCoy. I knew he was not a buy in to the Bratva. There was no way. But, someone along the same level of power was, and I could not figure out who. The suggestions, the shots – I could not decipher who was calling them, but they were there. I was nothing more than a pawn, a means to an end, a way to get closer to certain events by the ties I created wherever I went. But, I was okay with that.

Leaning over, Casey kissed my cheek. "Then, we'll talk about it, but today is Saturday."

"Park day," I said with a soft smile. Every Saturday, Casey and I took Temperance to the park to play. She was given the opportunity to play with other children, though we had both noticed that she shunned other children – it was not the other way around which would have been more expected, I would have thought. According to Tee's therapist, though, it probably had something to do with Jesse not letting her play with other children, possibly punishing her for showing interest. He had a lot to hide. I understood, in a creepy way, why he would discourage it. She might say or do something, another parent might get suspicious. Best to keep her in the house, and keep her quiet. I understood all of that in a way that I never wanted to understand the bad guys. The brotherhood was wearing off on me.

"Yea," Casey mused, setting her empty plate back on the tray. "I was actually thinking we could try to deviate minutely from her schedule, though. Her therapist thinks it might be a good thing. To change what time we get ice cream, which entrance of the park we enter, small things. If she can adapt to those, we can start introducing her to larger changes."

I nodded. The doctors had determined that Tempe was not likely autistic. It had been on the table when she was younger, but she had not displayed strictly autistic symptoms. Her very premature birth had probably caused some issues, coupled with the abuse against her for a year, and there was little surprise that she had issues. The question was how much was chemical or physically related to the trauma versus how much was related to emotional trauma. And, that was taking its sweet time. Tee would have to work through the emotional trauma, relearn to trust Casey and me, to trust that people could be good. Then, maybe, we could figure out what was what. "Well, then, I guess we can start with getting ice cream at a different time each Saturday. Before the merry go round as opposed to after?"

"Yea," Casey said with a sigh. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

Taking both my plate and Tee's, I set them and the tray on the floor before I lay back down, pulling Casey and Temperance down with me. "You know what, honey," I mused. She quirked an eye brow at me. "It's going to be okay. However this eventually turns out, it's going to be alright. You believe that God doesn't give you anything you can't handle, right?"

She nodded. "Yea, but you're not religious."

"Doesn't matter. Between the two of us, she's got the best life she could possibly have."

Casey smiled. "I know," she said. "And, I'm grateful to you for it. I couldn't do this without you."

I shook my head. "You would be fine."

"I would have given up a long time ago. I don't even know that I could have been a mother." I opened my mouth to talk, but she covered my lips with her finger. "But, I am so, so glad that I am. That we are. Every day, Alex, I am grateful for everything that you've done for me, for our daughter. If, um, if you want to go to The Hague, Alex, the only thing keeping me in New York is you, so I'll go wherever you do. I have nothing but my family, my wife and daughter. My brothers and I don't talk much. I pushed them away, I still don't know if I can talk to them. I've turned into a recluse. Maybe living somewhere else, walking unknown streets will be very good, not just for me, but for all three of us. I can get out more. Tempe can experience a different culture. Maybe it'll help her progress. She's not the only one who has to learn to trust again."

Sitting up, I climbed over Casey and cuddled her from behind. "I know, my wonderful, wonderful lady. Do you think it would help you?"

"A new place, less memories. Maybe we could just make happy ones there. That I wouldn't remember David or Jesse or Tommy or Andy on the street. You pulled me out of that, but I pulled you down here. It's dirty here, Alex, and I know I need more therapy. I get it. But, I can get that there, right?"

I nodded. "Yes. You could. So could Tempe, though it would be a drastic change in her lifestyle."

"Maybe that's better. Nothing from before, nothing from during her time with Jesse, a brand new place to be. And, for you-"

I smiled, brushing her hair back. "For me, it's an equal escape from Hell, Casey. It's why I told them I would seriously consider it. But, I don't want you to jump into this."

"I wanted to move to Seattle, Washington, Alex," she said, sitting up and pulling Temperance into her lap. I wrapped myself around the both of them and put my head on her shoulders. "I just didn't know how to ask you. But, being in upstate New York, Al, made me feel so much safer. I love this city. I love everything we've been able to do here, but I'm still afraid."

"You wanted to leave." I was not surprised, but it was the first time that she had said anything. I thought things had been progressing, and they had, but she was still tightly bound to something much darker than anything I had ever experienced in my life, even with Damien and my own father.

"I didn't want to take you from the DA's office. I know how much it means to you to be there."

Hugging her, I kissed Casey's neck softly. "We should talk with her therapist, see if Tempe will be able to handle that kind of change without us causing more damage to her emotional state. Give it a couple of days to make sure you're, we're really comfortable with this idea, and then, I'll give them my final word on the matter."

"Is it a permanent thing?" Casey asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's a six month minimum contract. After that, if it works, and they like me, then it's for as long as I want to work there and as long as we want to live in the Netherlands. I'm not opposed to living anywhere, Casey. In most European countries, I could get an L.L.B and practice law in three to four years, and before then, most countries would let me practice civilly where American trade agreements were considered. It's not like finding a job for me would be difficult, Casey. Even in the States, we wouldn't have to come back here. In a year, your suspension will be up if you want to practice again. Hell, maybe if we come back, we can start a private practice."

"Defense?"

I shook my head. "No, civil. Specifically working with victims of crime. You know, helping battered women divorce their husbands, helping grandparents gain legal custody of their children because the parents are abusive, whatever. Civil justice, you know."

Casey nodded. "Maybe. Maybe we should just get through the Netherlands first."

I wrapped my arms tighter around her, kissing her. She was my taste of freedom, and I cherished everything about that.


	31. Chapter 31

_I gave them my answer the moment I got the verdict back. My decision was not based upon the verdict itself, but on the fact that I was staring at the witness across the table during a quick debriefing for her at the courthouse. I had known I was going to go, but I had kept putting the affirmation off until the verdict because I feared, in the soul of everything, that I might be tearing my family apart again. Was it really conducive to a family like ours for us to go so far away? _

_But, I asked the woman herself. I asked her why she left Africa, though I thought the answer was somewhat obvious. She said exactly what I had been thinking, though. She left for a better life. And, looking around myself, I did not know if I was being too picky or not. Casey and I had a great life. We had a viable income, coupled with my inheritance and my investments. We would never be hurting. She homeschooled our daughter. There was no shortage of love between us. We were connected as a family, and that was much more than many children could ask for. The only real, tangible fear was that Jesse might still be out there, watching. Would he go to the Netherlands with us?_

_Yet, if I expected to give my family the best I could possibly provide, was I not, in some way, obligated to take them from New York, to get them somewhere better? Was not that the precise duty I took on in taking on the more traditionally masculine roles of a heterosexual relationship? I did not believe, necessarily, that gender roles fit into every relationship, but I had, from an early point, taken on the primary protector role, the primary provider role, and the primary enforcement role. Casey had fallen into the caregiver role. I loved every moment of it, but if we were being looked at in a heteronormative manner, I was definitely the husband. So, that being such, was not my greatest responsibility to the safety of my family above all else – safety both physical and emotional?_

_I thought I was. And, that meant taking this step. I made even more money working for the CPI than I did for the District Attorney. The area in which we moved was surprisingly easy to acclimate to, and Casey immediately got on board with a homeschooling program in the area that helped provide her with resources for mute children. Within a month, we learned that there were public based schools, private schools seemed to befuddle the education system in the area though were not non-existent, which catered to special needs students in a way that no school in New York I had ever seen catered to special needs students. We enrolled Temperance in an English curriculum, and she attended school with two other students of families working for the CPI. Her PISA scores were low as was expected, but it did not seem to bother the school. They just catered her class time to enhancing where she struggled most._

_Casey and I started taking Dutch lessons both online and with a tutor, though we were both helped and hindered by our fluency in other foreign languages as well. We tried with Temperance to reinforce small, simple words like 'cat' or 'house' that she recognized in English. But, she still struggled there. It was because the sound of the word 'cat' did not mean the meowing creature that squirmed when she held it. It was the sign that meant the animal, not the sound. Nevertheless, even if Tempe could not associate sounds, Casey and I could, and it was fun to test our knowledge and learning in trying to talk to waiters and waitresses when we went out to eat or when we went to the library and needed to find a book – or when we picked up a children's book to practice our own reading._

_Neither of us told the squad we were leaving. Neither of us could. Casey was terrified of what they would think of her. And, me, I never could tell Olivia good bye. It would kill me. So, we left. We left, and we did not look back. And, it was surprisingly easy. _

"You know," I purred, picking at the croissant on my plate as I stared beyond Casey to the city around us. "I think we've really made a life for ourselves here."

Casey smiled. "I've stopped throwing up," she whispered, looking down at her plate.

"I know. Stress?"

She nodded. "But, it's like that doesn't exist here. On the days Tempe has school, I'm my own person without wondering if anyone in the city knows any of _them_ or if they know me because of it. For the first time, Al, I don't care if they get out because they can't touch us here. We're so far away, it feels unreal. And, then, when I've got Tem, she's my little explorer princess, hiking around the city. We're on the rail all the time. She's courageous and brave. She's blossomed."

I nodded. I knew. Temperance had exploded in personality a few weeks after settling in. She was still mostly nonverbal, but she had started using Mommy and Momma with regularity enough that we knew she knew the difference in the sounds. Before we left, her doctor had told us that she was likely to never be verbal, but in the few months we had lived in the Netherlands, her sign had improved and her temper tantrums had begun to fade away. The traumatic stress in New York had impacted our daughter far more than either of us had realized. I doubted that her therapist had known. She was special needs to begin with, and the extent of the trauma had been overlooked because of it.

"Momma," Tempe said, tugging at my sleeve.

"Yes, baby?" I asked, leaning over.

-Want more. Me hungry.- She signed, indicating her empty plate.

-Want Momma snack?- She nodded. I gave her the rest of my croissant which wound up being well over half. We had stopped at the café, as we did every Sunday morning, for a midmorning snack. She had not eaten much breakfast that morning, so I was not surprised that she was hungry. I was glad, though. Casey did stress out a little whenever Temperance would not eat.

Over the course of two months, we had tried not to create something too routine. With a new environment, we were hoping to break Temperance of the habit just a little. We still kept some things routine. Mornings were the same before school with a shower, breakfast, and then both Casey and I walked her to school. That, right there, had been my dream come true. Her tiny hand in mine, her other hand in Casey's, running every few steps and waiting to be swung, Casey and I swinging her until she giggled. A kiss for Mommy and a kiss for Momma, and then, she ran up the steps to her teacher and, inevitably, one other student who was deaf with whom she could more easily communicate, though the student, her age, was more advanced academically.

Lunches on school days were the same, too. Casey would pick her up, and they would either go to our little flat, or else they would go to a café and eat lunch together. One afternoon a week, Temperance had a special class that focused on her signing ability and was for parents and children, and Casey would take her to that class, staying with her for the three hour lessons and games, and she would teach me what she learned at night when I got home.

We practiced, too, almost every night, different words, though Tee struggled considerably there. She would forget them or get frustrated and not want to practice. I understood the frustration, though. She could communicate better through sign, and being reduced to a more basic form of communication made it more difficult for her to have patience. In that, she was like any child. And, especially, like her mother. In the two of us learning American Sign Language, Casey was regularly more frustrated than I that she could not communicate exactly what she wanted to say. From ability alone, she did not do well dumbing down her intellect, and it made me laugh probably a lot more than it should have. But, an adult woman throwing a mini tantrum because she could not articulate herself as specifically as she would have liked was just funny. What made it better was that she was a red head.

Sunday morning midmorning snacks were a fast tradition as well. We would pick a different place in that we would rotate through about four different cafes, but never the same one twice in a row, lest we get too ingrained. Otherwise, though, our lives were whatever they were. Casey took Tempe out during the week sometimes. Sometimes, she stayed home. I think it made Tee uncomfortable with her autistic tendencies to switch things up so much, but she seemed able to adjust with enough patience. And, as volatile as Casey could be with others, she was equally as patient with our daughter.

"Do we have a game plan for the day?" I asked. I almost always did. I left Casey to do her thing, and she seemed to like being the stay at home mother and general activities planner for days spent with Temperance.

With an enthusiastic grin, Casey nodded. "I want to show you somewhere I think you'll love."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm a little suspicious of you saying that," I said.

"Well, see it first."

"You've got something planned," I accused. She only batted her eyes at me.

Then, she sat up straight, smiling. "It would give me something to do in the mornings."

"What did you buy?" I asked, though her smile, as always, was contagious, and I found myself smiling, too. "It's nothing too permanent is it?"

"Would you be horrified if it was?"

I shook my head. "Not based on that alone. What did you buy?"

She just smiled, staring at me for a few seconds. I knew I would never be mad at her. Whatever she had decided to get, she had done so with good intentions or, at least, a good heart. I never worried about Casey in that respect. "You'll just have to see, won't you?" she teased.

Standing, I leaned over her, one hand on the chair, the other on the table, and waited for her to look up at me. She finally did, rolling her eyes to look up to me as she did her best to look like a lost puppy. I kissed her, my mouth covering hers. And, in a way that she had stopped doing after I moved back to New York as Alex Cabot instead of one of my many aliases, she kissed me back, letting me in to parts of her soul I thought she had permanently sealed off. The Netherlands had brought those walls down.

I pulled back, cupping her cheek with my hand, smoothing my thumb along the ridge of her cheek bone. "You don't want to go back, do you?"

"No," she whispered. "I'm sorry, but, no. We're making so much of a life here, so much progress. Tempe is in school. You've got an amazing job. I feel like I can start really living again. Why go back to something less?"

"Alright," I murmured, pressing my forehead down on hers. "Then, let's go see what you bought. I wanna know what we're investing in."

"If I can't be a lawyer, Alex, it's the next best thing for me. My next dream."

"That sounds like the perfect investment."

She reached up, wrapping her arms around me, kissing me again, deeper this time, more passionately. "Thank you, Alex. You're perfect."

I smiled, but I was far from it. Even though the brotherhood had not contacted me since we moved, I had been given a to-do list before leaving. Mostly, it was people I was supposed to meet, people I was supposed to keep an eye on and report back on. I felt like a spy, only instead of Hollywood, it was real life. Still, I told Malachai that I would not put my family in danger in the Netherlands, and Damien and Tony had supported me in that. Malachai had not been too happy to take orders, but many of the other higher ranked members on the east coast had come to respect me.

In part, I knew it was because if they ever found Jesse, they all knew I wanted to kill him. And, I wanted that. I did not want to see him die. I did not want to merely know that he was dead. I wanted the satisfaction of pulling the trigger. Ironically, in embracing that aspect of myself, the murderous aspect, I had become a lot more emotionally stable. It would be remiss if I did not think that being away from the site of so much trauma in my life had helped me to cope and move on, but I knew, equally, accepting my nature had helped. My slowly seething rage had slowed, too. I felt happier.

"I know," I mumbled. –Temperance, want go see Mommy surprise?- I signed. Temperance nodded fanatically, grabbing what was left of the croissant and jumping up from her seat. She reached out and took Casey's hand with her free hand, looking at the both of us as if we were the slowest moving people alive.

It was a few minutes before the trolley passed the stop we were waiting at, and Temperance was dancing around as though she were incredibly anxious over the surprise. It was strange. She seemed excited about surprises but terrified of change. The child confused me to no end. I supposed that we would, as always, adapt.

-Settle.- Casey commanded as Tempe bounced around, one hand forever on Casey's knee as she paced back and forth. Temperance glanced at her mother, then to me. I frowned, giving her that look that said she had better do as her Mommy had told her. Yet, her stillness lasted all of five seconds before she was even more anxious.

-Settle.- I signed. –Or no Mommy surprise.-

That seemed to do it because she crawled up into Casey's lap, her arms across her chest, glaring at me like that was the biggest injustice in the world. I just smiled. Whenever she tried to be angry with me, it was all I could do. I just smiled. It might not have been the best solution. She might need years of therapy because of it, because I never took her anger seriously. But, it worked for her age and development. It did not take her too long to switch from Casey's lap into mine, her head resting on my chest. She was watching the street intently, waiting for the trolley to pass by, her hands covering my hands, playing with my engagement ring.

The locket I had given to Casey had turned into an everyday item, and Temperance would often play with it, opening and closing the piece of jewelry, pointing at the picture of herself and the picture of me, both times beaming at one of us to make sure we saw her playing with the locket. The bracelet was a just us item. I almost always saw it when it was just Casey and myself going somewhere, usually in the mornings while Temperance was at school and I had nothing going on in the office. We would go to coffee or breakfast. Considering that I easily put in a hundred hours a week at the office or at home doing office related work, I did not feel badly playing hooky some mornings.

It remained the same though that, despite Casey and me introducing each other as spouses, we had never formally gotten married, so I still wore the engagement ring. Even if we did legally marry, chances were, we wouldn't change rings. Both held so much emotional value that even if we were to get wedding bands, I would feel naked without the engagement ring.

"Have you thought about getting legally married?" I asked Casey as I watched Tempe play with the ring on my finger. "I mean, piece of paper that it is and all."

Casey tipped her head and looked at me. "Sure," she said, "but I've never thought it would be that big of a deal. You're my wife. I'm yours. We have a daughter together, a family. I don't need a piece of paper telling me I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why?"

"Gay marriage has been legal in the Netherlands since 2001. They're a little more accepting, and it might be nice, knowing that if something happens to you or you're unavailable, that in this country I can make decisions for Tempe's wellbeing. Our court order from the States only stands with backing from the States. I'd have to go to the embassy to get it translated here, and by then, she could be lost in the system here." I bit my lip. "Plus, if something happens to me, you and Tempe would get my benefits. Plus, you would inherent my estate including control over Temperance's trust."

"Ever pragmatic," Casey mused with a grin.

I shook my head. "Maybe. But, I don't need a piece of paper to love you, either, to have a family with you. I do seem to need one to protect you should anything happen to me. I'm not saying it will, but why risk it?" I shrugged. "It's really not a big deal if you don't want. You're still my wife."

Leaning over, Casey kissed me. "Until death do us part," she murmured. "I'd love to get married."

Smiling, I pulled her back in for another kiss, my tongue running along her teeth quickly before I pulled away, Cheshire grin spreading across my face.

Casey glowered at me if glowered could be the right word for something so simultaneously playful. "You know, it drives me nuts when you do that," she mumbled.

"I know," I said, tossing a cocky grin her way. I leaned over, my lips brushing her ear as I whispered to her. "Promises, promises."

She only offered me her own fleck of a cocky smile, and I had to admire how far she had gotten, how much she had grown. In so many ways, despite her abusive relationship with David, she had been incredibly innocent when I had first met her in New Mexico, dogged and ragged, practically crawling away from her boyfriend and kidnapper's car. Sitting on the little bench, a small handful of people around us, but most biking – something we had thus far been unable to teach Temperance – I knew how far we had all come. We were the most unlikely family I could think of, but we were together nonetheless. If nothing else would ever make me believe in religion, our relationship might. It was as if something greater than ourselves desired that we all be together. Because, something had to keep holding us together outside of coincidence. As much as I did not believe in religion, I, likewise, did not believe in coincidence. In this case, though, my disbelief in the two very much contradicted what I could prove.

"Okay, Alex, you've gotta close your eyes," Casey said, a short tram ride later and a few block walk. Squeezing Tempe's hand a little, I nodded, shutting my eyes. Casey took my free hand and continued to lead me down the street, though we did not turn as we walked, so I figured her surprise was not far down the street. We paused as keys jingled, and the next minute, a door opened. The air in the room we walked into was cool and smelled mildly of dust and paper. It was familiar, but I could not identify it from scent alone.

I felt Tee's hand slip from mine, but I heard the familiar huff of Casey's picking her up. "Okay, open your eyes," Casey instructed.

I did.

I stared around me at the giant room, bookshelves lined up in wavy rows which I assumed were for precisely that, books. In the back was a café area with what looked like mostly new equipment which meant that it had not been there a few days prior.

"What do you think?" Casey asked me, chewing at her lip. "I mean, it's not done yet. I still have a lot of work to do to get it where I want it before I open, but come check out the back room."

"You bought a book store," I said, still trying to recover my speech.

She nodded. "I put a café in the back, a little bit like the Barnes and Noble back in South Dakota when I used to vist you when you were Audrey."

I smiled. "I liked that book store. It was the best place to have tea."

"Well?" Casey asked, visibly flinching when I walked. She still had her doubts. I hoped to erase them.

"Why did you keep it a secret?"

Shrugging, Casey stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I mean, what? I thought you might be mad."

"How much?" I asked, realizing that had been her hang up. Between us, money had always been her hang up. David had taken her income and restricted her from it, using her purchasing even necessities as an excuse to yell at her or strike her. I remembered her flinching habits returning when she lost her job as a lawyer and had to ask me for the money to cover her hormone medications. She and Temperance were covered under my health insurance, but there was still a lot of hormone replacement therapy that was not covered under insurance. Naturally, I had told her that our income was shared. We were, after all, married as far as the two of us were concerned. It had about killed her that I had added her name to my bank account, taking out a credit card in her name on the same. Then again, she had been self-sufficient from her mid-teens, and I think that not having her own income scared her.

"So far or total?" she asked, cringing, shrinking down. There it was. Whatever residual effects were left from David's abuse usually manifested themselves when things came up that we had never encountered before. I did not know if the two of them had dealt with a similar situation, though considering he liked to spend her money more than he had his own, I doubted it. It was more that I think she was still waiting for me to get mad at her about something. She was still waiting for me to fall short of the light she had cast me in. While it was not my intention to fall short, I knew one day I would. But, there would never come a day when I would strike her or belittle her. It broke my heart that she struggled so much to accept it.

"Total it up for me," I suggested, still staring about me. She had obviously done some cleaning up. There was still a lot to be done, but she seemed to have progressed considerably in what I assumed to be a short period of time. Really, the architecture was beautiful. It had definitely been Roman influenced which I considered part of the charm. There was something older about the building, too, something peaceful. It was akin to being in a church at night. Even though I did not believe in God, there was something inherently peaceful about a place where people went to feel absolved and human and forgiven. Even at midnight, lights out and wood creaking, I could not bring myself to feel fear.

Her hesitation was a little too long for me to think that she was calculating everything up in her head. She was a smart woman. She would have known how much out of pocket expenses would be when she bought the place. And, I doubted that she had pulled out a loan. We had not lived in the area long enough for institutions to trust us. And, without income of her own to prove that she could pay the bank systems back, I just did not see her being able to pull a loan without a cosigner: without me.

"Let me ask it this way, then," I said as she shifted from foot to foot. She had set Temperance on one of the counters, the little girl watching Mommy, uncertain. My heart went out to both of them. Tempe still took her cues from Casey, almost religiously. If Casey was nervous, so was Tem. She would pick at her nails and bite her lip just like Casey would. I worried that when Casey waited for the blow that would never come from me, she was inadvertently teaching Temperance to expect the same. Both had been hit repeatedly. Fortunately, for Tempe, her experience was solely with men. She would not doubt a woman the same way she clearly shied away from men. Casey's experience, however, had been with a lover. It was that distinction which I knew she made, not that David was a man and I was a woman. In a way, I was impatient for her to move past it. But, I also knew that it could take years of our trusting, loving relationship to assuage all of her fears, especially when I did not think that she realized she was afraid. "Does it make you happy?"

"So far," she said. "And, I imagine that it will continue to make me happy."

I caught her chin with my finger, tucking my curled index finger under her chin. I did not pull her face up, though. She knew this touch enough that she looked up on her own, her eyes conflicted between apprehension and excitement such that they actually glittered. "Then who cares how much it costs? But, I gotta be honest, Case. If this is what makes you happy, what elevates you, then I want to be a part of this dream. Cleaning up, stocking, whatever it is you need to do to prepare to open your little bookstore and to run it after, honey, I want you to be able to ask me to help you. Whatever you need, you tell me, and I'll do it. No more secrets about this thing, sweetie. Promise?"

Practically leaping at me, Casey wrapped her arms around my neck, and I picked her up, holding her against me as she kissed me, apparently trying to eat my face. As she pressed her cheek against mine, I realized she was crying, her wet tears sliding down my cheek and neck. "I promise. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was terrified you'd be angry, that you wouldn't want to stay here. I thought maybe seeing it would make it okay. I should have known it wouldn't make a difference."

I laughed. "No, it doesn't make a difference, but can I help with the investment decisions? I've learned a little from being a venture capitalist in other situations."

"Dear God, yes. You can take over the financial aspects from here. I have no idea how to budget for a company. I can budget for a family, but that's about it. We're talking thousands of dollars here, and the exchange is confusing as Hell."

I giggled, setting her on the counter beside Tempe, pressing my head into her chest. "My little entrepreneur," I mumbled.

I smiled at Temperance. –Like Mommy surprise?-

She nodded, grinning. I knew she liked it best when Casey and I were affectionate. Never inappropriate around her, but affectionate. I think she knew our relationship was unique to other relationships she had seen. Even around the detectives, between Casey and Jesse, between her and Jesse. Children, I suspected, just knew things, even if they could not articulate what they knew. And, somewhere, somehow, Tempe knew that I would never be anything less than affectionate with Casey. She trusted me for it, even when Casey was anxious or conflicted.


	32. Chapter 32

_If I could have, I would have given her everything just to see her smile. I would have starved if it made her happy because I was so deep and so far gone when it came to the light in her eyes that I probably wouldn't have noticed anyway. And, for the next month, that was how she was, her smile reaching her eyes, even when she looked worn out. _

_I tried to help her the best I could on my lunch hours and the mornings I took off work to help her paint, move, fix, and set up until the place looked perfect. It wasn't very big. The selection of books was in English, Dutch, German, Spanish, and Italian. I was actually impressed at the many languages, though the majority was easily English, Dutch, and German in that order. There weren't many books, but it was a start. We had been joking about the name, and what had come out of it was Common Ground, a play off the coffee grounds and the fact that the books were across a multitude of languages. Casey had said she felt like it was a place anyone could come for a good read, no matter what language they spoke. She made fliers to hang in the other shops nearby and I took some with me to work. _

_A few of my coworkers trickled in, as did people who frequented the shops nearby. Temperance quickly became the book store mascot, always there when she was not at school. At that age, she could not read, but we were trying to teach her with children's books, and after I got off work, I would go to the little store, intermittently helping Casey and reading to Temperance in the corner. The difficulty in her reading was that we really did not know if she was understanding that the black ink images beside the pictures of cats and kittens playing around or if she were just looking at them, studious, as though she were understanding. _

_My weekends were spent at the bookstore, giving Casey a chance to take a break if she needed it, though she still spent the days at the bookstore. Gradually, I told her that she ought to close the store on Mondays so that she had a day to spend to herself. I also managed to talk her into opening later on Sundays so that we could still go to breakfast as a family, that we would not be split over a store. _

_It wound up working into our schedule fairly well. Casey was exhausted quite often. We were both working seven days a week, though the store was not netting enough to sustain itself just then. Still, people came, and I noticed that each week Casey's store attracted more and more people. If for nothing else, the coffee bar seemed to be a hit. Then again, other than the café, it was the only one on the street, though I found it exceptionally promising that the couple who owned the café were more than happy to help Casey when she had coffee questions. They also sent business her way and she sent business to them. _

"Okay, that should do it," I said, pushing the small shelf against the wall by the coffee bar on the far side of the shop. I topped it with a sign that read: _Trade for Trades_. I began stacking children's books and young adult literature on the shelf, all of the books used. Some, I had found in used book stores, others were from our flat. The top tier of the three shelf case held mostly adult novels ranging from science fiction to biographical. "You know, this kind of defeats the purpose of a book store, right?"

Casey wrapped her arms around me, kissing my cheek. "I know, but it's fun. It'll be good for the coffee shop portion, anyway. People who want to read over some coffee can without being obligated to buy the books."

"You know, again, that's purpose defeating, right?" I asked, picking her up.

She squealed, wrapping her legs around my waist. "Alex, don't drop me."

Laughing, I spun her around before setting her down. It attracted a few people's eyes, but for the most part, the people who came into the coffee shop on a regular basis were aware of our lesbian relationship. Those who didn't like it didn't oft return. We weren't creepy with displays of affection. They were rare, but occasionally, I caught her with a peck on the cheek or a chaste kiss on the lips. For the most part, people did not seem to think it any different.

"You two really are something out of a story book, aren't you?" one of my coworkers quipped, a smile on his face. He was an attorney from Romania, though he was not nearly as stringent as I think he tried to make himself appear at work.

"You mean defeating evil in the name of true love?" Casey asked, looking at me. I smiled. "Yea, I guess we kind of are."

"Pardon me, Marku, but I need to grind a new pot of coffee. Can I get you a refill?" I cradled his cup in my hands, dumping the remaining coffee in the container. Casey had some pretty high standards for what she brewed, and one of us changed it every half hour. I tended to think that was a little ridiculous, but Casey assured me that it was important. And, if it made her happy, who was I to stand in the way? Especially over something so trivial.

I made Marku a fresh cup from a tiny filter and enough ground beans to make one cup. It was better than waiting for the larger container to be finished. It still was not instant, but when I set the cup back on Marku's table, he thanked me. "With Casey opening this store, Alex, does that mean you won't be going home even after your year is termed?"

Sitting at the table across from him, I leaned back, hands pressed to my stomach. "When I'm done at the CPI, Marku, I might go to school here to become an Advocaat. It's going to take some time, but I'm hoping that the law schools here will consider an American legal degree as something of a step up. Maybe waive a portion of the LLB. My degree from the States is an International law degree. If nothing else, I might be able to practice civil law pertaining to American documents until I achieve the next four years of schooling. Truth be told, I haven't looked into it very much."

"Truth be told, Alexandra, if you wanted to continue practicing law while living here, you would have looked into it already. Admit it."

"Fine," I agreed with a small, uncertain smile. "But, what else can I do?"

"You're a master linguist, or, should I say, a Mistress of the Tongues?"

"In English, Marku, that sounds rather, uh, sexual."

He laughed, a full, throaty laugh. I knew Marku only laughed when he meant it, too, which made his laughter all the more enjoyable. "Not what I intend, of course."

I raised my brow. "I know. What are you getting at?"

"Be a linguistics teacher. There's a center a few blocks from the Court. Not only could you teach English, but you could teach whatever languages you speak."

Laughing, I slid down further in my chair. "I could do that." I shrugged. "I've been working on the Congo case for eight months now, though, Marku. Maybe in four months, I can just help Casey here. Be with Tempe. I missed so much of her first three years, I'd like to spend some time with her."

"I heard you performed a return from the dead trick," he said. I rolled my eyes. "You Americans are very strange sometimes. Whatever you chose, Alex, I'm sure it will be a good choice."

"I just want to do right by my family."

"You are good woman," he said, his accent growing stronger. I just shook my head. "I mean it, Alex. You are a rare gem."

"You wouldn't think that if-"

"Marku, is she bothering you, again?" Casey said, draping an arm around my neck as she sat in my lap.

The man smiled. "Your lovely wife is never a bother, Casey. Always a joy. I would have liked to attend court with her in trial."

"She is something to see in a trial," Casey admitted.

"Would you hate it if I left law?" I asked, knowing that since she had been forced from her practice, she might be a little less than giving if I just left.

Her brow furrowed. "Your work at the Court," she started.

I interrupted her. "Is over in four months. Casey, I asked to be termed at the end of the year. I don't know what I'm going to do, but whatever it is, I want it to take less time away from my family."

"You're here every weekend, Alex. I think you spend plenty of time with us. You can still be a lawyer."

"I can also work here. I can-" I gestured to Marku who had suggested what I said next- "teach language. I could take up a part time job at a wax museum."

Nodding, Casey licked her lips. "Perhaps, we should talk after closing tonight. I do not object, but I would like to talk to you."

I nodded, letting her slip from my lap.

A couple of hours later, I turned the sign in the front window over and locked the door. "Alex," Casey called from the back, by the coffee stand. "Help."

I jogged to the back, catching the box of beans before they completely toppled on my lover. "Oh, Casey," I said, helping her to push them back up onto the shelf. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Love me?" Casey purred.

I smiled, pulling her toward me as I brushed her hair back behind her ear, my mouth covering hers. Temperance had taken to spending the occasional Friday night with another girl in her class who was challenged as well. Lydia was a year older than Tempe, but they had the same mental capacity and maturity. Casey and I took Lydia for date nights for her parents, John and Marianne. They did the same for us, though usually those became our inventory nights. And, it was inventory night, but that did not mean I could not spare a kiss. "I do. I love you very much."

She looped her arms over my neck. I smiled. We had not been able to be quite so openly affectionate in our first years. I had to admit, I loved being able to go out with her without wondering who was looking, without fearing I would be recognized. There was something intrinsically freeing about not looking over my shoulder for the Bratva or our collective shoulder for Jesse. It was nice letting Tempe run a few steps ahead of us on our way to her school in the mornings without worrying as much that her biological father was just a few steps behind. It was brilliant to be able to walk Casey to the store and then go to work myself. I had not really thought I would settle into the life in the Netherlands, but I had. "So," she purred, her lips barely brushing mine. "My unhappy lawyer, whatever shall I do with you?"

"I'm not unhappy," I protested. "I just think I'm happier away from the court. I didn't think I would be, but, maybe in this era of our lives, Casey, being an attorney isn't right for either of us. I mean, you've got your bookstore. I haven't seen the light leave your eyes since you opened. Tempe is thriving."

"And, you're still pursuing who and what you are when we lived in the States."

I shook my head. "I'm pursuing who I was before Zapata shot me. But, I'm not that woman anymore."

"You don't need my permission to find yourself," she chided me.

I bit my lip. "I'd like your blessing."

"Always, Alexandra." Casey pressed her lips to mine, holding my face close to hers.

Smiling softly, I traced my fingers down her shoulder and arm to her hip. "I knew we got together for a reason." I felt her muscles contract as her breath hitched as I dragged my fingers up her stomach. My fingers moved over her neck, curling behind one ear as I nibbled at the lobe of her other ear, my teeth gentle.

"Alex," she hissed, her stomach contracting quickly as I found that sensitive spot on the edge of her ear with my tongue. My hands played over her stomach and thigh over her clothing as she panted, her hands on my wrists, following my every move. Her voice was a breathy whisper as she repeated just one word, "please," over and over.

I unbuttoned her shirt, kissing along her jaw line. With delicate care, I pushed her shirt off her shoulders, it collapsing into a heap on the floor. "Alex," she whined, my fingers whispering over the tops of her breasts. I did not, however, pull her bra from her body, instead preferring to leave it there, a dark, crimson contrast to her pale white skin.

My hands traveled down her stomach until I found the button in her jeans. "I think you'll look better without the pants, Casey," I purred, unzipping them, Casey's hands still resting lightly on mine. I was listening to her breathe. There was a tiny hitch at the end of each inhale that no one else would hear but a lover who knew her well. Her pants and shoes joined her shirt in a pile. I brought her down to a kneel on the carpet. Her hands fell away from me and she folded them in her lap, looking up at me as I stood over her.

I traced her jaw with my fingers. "You're so beautiful, Casey," I whispered, my fingers abandoning her face for a scar. I traced it. She told me that it was the first scar she had gotten from David's belt. It was not, however, the last. I knelt beside her and kissed the scar. She shuddered. I kissed a line across her back from one shoulder to the other. From behind her, I ran my hands down her arms, lacing my fingers in hers as I kissed her neck. I could smell her arousal, and I inhaled, my eyes closed as I nibbled on her neck.

Using my hands to guide hers, I traced her body, keeping her hands diligently away from her chest and the special place between her legs. This seemed to frustrate her, and I delighted in it. She lifted her hips as I grazed her hands over her thighs, but from behind her, I could feel and anticipate every move she made, and I pulled our hands away, over her hips before she got what she wanted. She groaned in frustration. I giggled, though even to my own ears, my voice was husky and filled with lust. I couldn't help it. Teasing her was a turn on. Besides that, I had learned when we first met that Casey could be pleased without being expressly sexual with her. Her body was a fascinating playground.

Releasing her hands, I bit down hard on her neck, sucking at her skin. My fingers dipped and moved across her hips, trailing over her sides, down her thighs. She leaned back, her hips moving of their own accord each time my hands moved remotely near her privates. She reached back, her hands clasping behind my neck, nails digging into my skin. "Alex," she whimpered. "God, Alex."

I caught that spot over her hip that made her squirm every time, and, just as I expected, she reacted, her whole body jerking. She panted, her fingers tightening around my neck. Her body quivered against me, and I kept my attentions to where I knew I could press her over the edge. That was just what I did, too. My name, panted on her lips, became unintelligible until her breathing stopped, her body tight.

Her fingers slacked around my neck, but not so much that I feared her to have lost consciousness, but enough that I knew she was headed that way. I lifted my left hand from her hip, blowing air over her neck. She took a deep, gasping breath, her hands clasping my neck tightly once again. She whined as she exhaled, and I wiggled my fingers beneath the band of her underwear. Her breathing returned to a pant, but her stomach muscles continued to quiver, her fingers tight enough at my neck I knew she would leave bruises if not tiny cuts where her nails dug into my skin.

My mouth worked over her neck and jaw until she turned her face to mine, still panting. I spared a glance for her eyes, her pupil enlarged to make her eyes look like black onyx with just a slip of emerald surrounding. Since Temperance's birth and Casey's hysterectomy, I was not the only one to notice that her orgasms were more powerful. Her first orgasm was almost as powerful as her very first orgasm under my hands and would have been if I had not learned how to interrupt her.

I pulled my body away from hers, sliding her bra straps down her shoulders as I pushed her back. As the cups of her bra exposed her fair, pink skin, my mouth closed over one nipple. She twitched under my body, already sensitive from her first. "Alex," she mewled. Her legs squeezed together by reflex, and I slid mine on either side of her, grinding my hips into hers. She bucked up at me. "Please."

"Anxious already?" I teased, moving to her other breast, my hand cupping her other and her hip. "You can still barely breathe."

"Alex," she hissed, her hands caressing my back. "Please."

I laughed, that deep throaty laugh that was the telltale of erotic arousal. Her skin flushed at her chest, bruising where I left my mark. I pulled her underwear free of her body, the musk escaping into the air. Her crimson panties matched her bra in all except the fact that her bra was still dry, tinged only with the moisture of sweat. I blew cool air along her stomach, over the sweat glittering on her skin, as I wiggled my legs between hers. "You're so beautiful, Casey," I whispered, leaning over her, kissing her.

She pulled me down, pulling at my shirt until she managed to get it nearly over my head. I broke the kiss with her just long enough to strip myself of my shirt. Her hands were already down my pants, and I was back to trying to tear holes through her neck, to free her blood as it bound, pink against her white skin. Her hands slid around the back side of my pants, over the skin of my rear as she pulled me hard into her, slipping her leg between mine. I groaned, the denim seam of my jeans finding my erect clit. I rolled my body along Casey's thigh, moaning.

Pinching Casey's nipple slightly, I rolled it between my fingers. Sometimes, I forgot that she had learned a lot about pleasing a woman and she was quite willing to use and learn new skills with me as her guinea pig. I returned to kissing her, biting her lip, my tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring her mouth like a familiar friend.

She moaned into me, her hand sliding into the front of my pants, finding me warm and wet at the center. I sighed, sitting up on her. Looking down at her, I realized how I fell for her, just head over heels in love. I unbuttoned my jeans, an action that gave her more room, my mouth dropping as I cried out. Her other hand on my hip helped me keep balance as I rode her. She stared up at me, my body tight on her delicate fingers. I clasped her hand against my hip. "Casey, Casey," I whimpered, my eye lids fluttering closed. She crossed her fingers, and I lost it, truly needing that support she offered.

I curled up against her, my hands running over her body.

We spent the night into the early morning drenched in sweat and other things, and by the time both of us managed to roll away from each other, I could not feel my legs. The small book store smelled of books and coffee and sex, and I couldn't help but to laugh.

"What?" Casey panted.

"Us," I whispered.

Casey leaned over me, and I brought her down for a warm, passionate kiss. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you, too."

It took us a little while to be able to move properly again which was fine by me. When we could we finished cleaning up the area, and I turned on two fans to circulate the air so that it would not smell so strongly of sex when we opened again later that Sunday morning. "Let's head home."

"Oh?" Casey purred. "And, pick up where we left off? Our clothes will be gone before the bedroom."

"Nonsense," I said. Though, that was hardly the case as I was already unbuttoning her shirt again by the time we reached the front door of our apartment.

Casey curled up on my stomach mewling in such a contented way that I had to look down at her to make sure she was really doing okay. The sound was ethereal and a little strange. It was an utterly content sound, and I quite liked it. I was just concerned because I had never heard that noise from her lips before.

Out of comfort and habit, I stroked her hair, my fingers trailing down her back, drawing the last shudders and twitches from her body. Eventually, she rolled onto her side, curled against me, her lids heavy, though they were hardly the only ones drooping.

"Alex, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, honey," I murmured, wondering what she was going to say or ask that would have necessitated such a pre-empt.

"Do you ever want more children?"

I sat up a little, instantly awake. She fell gracefully off me as I looked down at her. "Casey."

"I'm not saying we should have more. I just want to know."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I'm from a big family, Alex. My family might hate me, but I remember growing up with a ton of siblings, and it was rich and warm and exciting. I always had a friend, always had someone to help me, always people I could help. I'm not saying we have a big family, but one other child might be nice."

I pressed my hands to my stomach. "You can't get pregnant."

"If you don't want to, neither of us has to, Alex. We can adopt."

I frowned, not totally sold. "Casey, with Tempe being special needs, do you think it wise?"

"I just want to make time to talk about it, Alex. We don't have to have more kids, but I want to put consideration into it before Tem gets much older."

Nodding, I stroked her cheek. "Of course, Casey, and we will. I promise."

"If Tempe weren't special needs, would you want more kids?"

I gave her sad eyes. "I don't know, Case. I love having siblings. I'm just worried what it would mean for Tempe."

"But, she does really well with classmates, and Matty practically lived with us half the week. I think she would be okay with a sibling, and a younger sibling would be raised learning how to deal with her tantrums. It might not be completely fair, but there's some unfairness to being an only child, a younger sibling, an older sibling. There's also some blessing and greatness."

Stroking her jawline, I kissed her softly. "We'll talk about it. I'm not set on no more children. I'm not set on more. I would want to look at our finances. Not only that, but where we'll be in four months, with what I do after the Court. We're happy here, so I'll need to find something to do here. I'm still not sure I want to stay in law. It'll be unfair to have a second child with so much upheaval. Can we just talk and make our final choices when your store settles down and I figure out what I'm going to do?"

She nodded. "That's fair."

"How long have you been mulling this over?" I asked, curious.

Sighing, she looked embarrassed. "Since we moved from the States. I thought with a new start for our family, we could settle and maybe expand."

I smiled, a grin, really. I couldn't help myself. "I love you," I purred, nuzzling her neck. "You're amazing. I promise to put serious consideration into this if you do, too."

She nodded. "Yes. I want kids, Alex, but you're right. It has to be what's best for this family, and, if it's best, then when we're ready as a family."


End file.
